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#that is what he needed but had stayed away from because of his own insecurities
danikamariewrites · 3 days
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Can you do another clingy reader x rhysriel
Likw, princess treatment, and maybe like babe give reader piggyback rides/carry her when her feet hurt and they do her hair and like they are also extremely clingy to her so it’s definitely not one-sided especially as he needs like so much reassurance which is perfect for reader because she also needs a lot of reassurance and has also a lot of like insecurities just like az but you know, so is rhysand so they are both extremely clingy with reader
You Are In Love
Rhysriel x reader
A/n: this is part 2 to attached at the hip. I hope you guys don’t find this too repetitive, I tried to make it different and add more details from previous hc’s.
Warnings: mentions of cock warming, sex, and oral fixation
You’ve always been a touchy clingy person. You need that reassurance from your mates that they are there with you, never leaving you. It had been a problem in pervious relationships that partners found very annoying
Rhys is the more touchy one and does more acts of service or you and Azriel
One of Rhys’s favorite acts of service/bonding things with you is doing your hair. He likes washing it and brushing it out for you since he is much gentler with it than you
One time he caught you tugging with the brush on a knot and he was horrified
“Why would you do that to your head, darling?” He asked in a chastising tone as he took the brush, sitting you at your vanity to finish your hair
Rhys can braid thanks to his mother and sister, so when he’s feeling adventurous and you’re sick of hair clips you have him do these lovely, intricate braids
When Rhys is done he always leaves a long, soft kiss on the back of your head and whispers, “Perfect, my darling.”
Rhys is always giving you piggy back rides and always finding an excuse to sweep you off your feet (Az doesn’t usually because of his wings and you don’t want to hurt him)
But Rhys will carry you any and everywhere, especially if your feet hurt after a night of dancing at Rita’s. Az carry’s your shoes while you cling to Rhys on the walk home
Azriel is more quality time with you
He likes having you near and will always find a reason to have his hands on you
You are very touchy with them and you make sure to show Azriel the most physical attention like rubbing lotion on his hands when they’re dry, letting him lay on your chest after a long day and you play with his hair. He practically purrs like a cat
Azriel likes to keep you on his lap, your touch keeps him grounded and helps his mind from running wild
When they’re both gone you feel so empty inside
You have no idea what to do with yourself
What, do they think you’re supposed to entertain yourself with? You want them to entertain you, give you things to do
If it’s just to the Hewn City or Windhaven you go with them. They hate taking you to Windhaven but you would rather die than be left alone in the house when they aren’t that far away
Even though they don’t like taking you around the camp you don’t let them tell you no. You attend meetings with Rhys and walk around holding hands. Rhys keeps you glued to his side until you get back to his mother’s old house
After care is so important for you (and them of course), especially if they were both rough with you. You just needed to know that they’d stay even though the three of you share a bed
Even though you each have your own spot in bed you always insist Rhys and Az basically share a pillow with you. If they’d let you, you would just lay across the two of them. They told you no because you would be uncomfortable and they don’t want to deal with a grumpy you in the morning
Feeling the need to be extremely close after a slow and sensual session where they poured all their love into you was also important to you
You just felt so much love you didn’t want to let go of it
What you want is for them to be stuck to you forever but you’ll take these moments where they’re holding you close, drifting off to sleep, making it feel like forever
Az and Rhys are always cautious when you want to cock warm them after sex. Especially when you’re about to fall asleep
You insist that you want it but they make sure you have a clear head before sliding back into you
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People who say that Beauty and the Beast (1991) endorses Stockholm Syndrome and domestic abuse have very grossly missed the entire point of the story.
#disney#beauty and the beast#meta#disney meta#txt#belle was never abused once by the beast in the movie. he was really just a jerk#y'all do realize that there are people who are jerks that aren't necessarily abusive#now they might have a higher inclination for it but no beast never abused her#the scene where he lost his temper was supposed to show how much beastly nature was having a hold on him and he immediately showed regret#afterwards. as soon as belle called him out on his bad temper he never tried any other shit ever again#y'all really think that if he was abusive he would have redeemed himself THAT quickly?#again he did act like an ass but he was not an abuser. i don't think he woulda even been able to stomach doing something to her#unintentionally or not#the entire point of the story is that despite him literally being a beast belle was able to see “beauty” in him#she was able to look past that and see that he was actually a good person but that he just needed to improve himself#see belle wasn't a “i can fix him” type. she was the inspiration for him to become a better individual#being with her made him feel things he probably never felt before. he felt loved wanted desired#that is what he needed but had stayed away from because of his own insecurities#which is also why this discussion about whether he was hot in his human form or not is irrelevant in the end#belle loved him for who he was and she probably thought he was the most beautiful man in the whole world both visually and spiritually#also beast respected and loved belle. gaston only lusted her and saw her as a pontential trophy wife to boost his social status#you see gaston and beast are actually quite similar in the beginning#but the thing is that beast has virtues that gaston lacks#beast also wanted belle just to break a spell although he did try to show her humanity to show that there was an emotional complex human#being but he did genuinely fall in love with her and let her go. he sacrificed himself and his servants because he truly loved her#gaston would have never done that before he was already too far gone in his fixation with being the BEST#anyways#i have gone long enough about this but you get my point
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endlessthxxghts · 19 days
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Best I Ever Had
Jackson!Joel Miller x afab!reader | w/c: 2.3k
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Summary: Someone tries to hit on you on your night out with Joel, insulting your man in the process, and oh you don't like that. You blow off some steam in more ways than one.
Content/Warnings: Reader is able-bodied, no physical descriptions. Feminine perception of reader and feminine pet names (Joel calls you mama and babygirl), but no pronouns used. Reader's a fucking badass and can hold their own fights (probably Joel's too, tbh). Slight description of reader getting physical/violent with another person (bby has some anger issues). Established relationship. Implied age gap (exact number unspecified). A bit of insecure Joel. 18+ MDNI! Dom!reader !! Sub!Joel !!!! P in V unprotected. Slight breeding kink (reader just likes being filled, no children talk). Joel has a fast refractory period (don't think too much on it, just enjoy). Definitely some overstimulation. Cockwarming. Riding..straddling.. Teasing. Begging. Edging. Sloppy making out. Multiple orgasms. Please let me know if there’s anything I missed that should be up here!
A/N: Some get post-nut clarity, but I get post-nut lust. This was the product of that. Hope you enjoy, my angels. Thank you @honeyedmiller for beta’ing 🩶 also I picture both game Joel or hbo Joel, so it’s entirely up to you what you wanna visualize ;)
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It was a busy night at the Tipsy Bison. Everyone was out. Everyone was mingling, getting to know each other. As if it wasn’t a small town already, but hey, it wouldn’t hurt to make sure you really knew the people living in this little forever-town. 
Except, Joel was not one to mingle—especially on nights like tonight. Tommy insisted that he come, it’ll be nice, he tried to reason. 
He eventually agreed. Not because of Tommy, though, but because of you. 
You knew Joel was a certified grump, through and through. And you love Joel, you really do. But the post-apocalyptic world caused you to react differently than your man. Yeah, you’ve become tougher, harder to break, harder to trust. However, you crave any sense of normalcy you can find. So on occasion, you like to go out and get to know the people of the town. You like human interaction. 
And when they say opposites attract, the saying couldn’t have been more true. Joel was absolutely smitten the day he met you. It’s been a long time coming between you two—with his vulnerability, or lack thereof, and his initial unwillingness to accept that he can finally relax and unclench his jaw—but you’re together now, stronger than ever, and everything is worth it. 
You are worth it. 
Which is exactly why all you needed was to give one raise of your brow during his protesting before Joel promptly shuts his lips and takes a defeated breath, fixing his answer to Tommy. “Oh, hell. Alright, brother, we’ll be there.” 
And to be quite honest, Joel would go as far to say that tonight’s little get together was actually decent for once. That is, until he sees you waiting on the bartender for his beer and your old-fashioned, and a man—a boy—approaches you. 
“Hey,” you heard a voice beside you say. Not realizing it was meant for you, your attention stays on the bartender. Still, the voice persists. “I was thinking, uh-” you look at the guy then, eyes staring him down in a way he perceives as a challenge. 
He clears his throat. “I was thinking I could buy you a drink?” 
“No, I’m good,” you say shortly. The bartender comes up to you, pulling you away from the guy’s feeble attempt at flirting. You tell the bartender your order, and before you can take another moment to speak, the guy pipes up. 
“Put it on my tab,” he smirks triumphantly, taking a closer step to you. 
You pull yourself away on instinct— out of disgust, but your eyes stay trained on his gaze. You’re pissed, but this naïve little boy has no idea. Both of what you're capable of and what the older man, your older man, across the bar is capable of. 
“Thanks,” you smile, “my boyfriend’s gonna appreciate the free drink,” you tell the guy, turning to Joel and giving him a sweet smile. You’ve been feeling his stare the second this waste of space walked up to you.
Joel would pounce if you told him to. He knows you can handle yourself, though, and you confirm it through that pretty smile you flash him. He can’t deny the way his cock twitches at the way this scene is unfolding. Part of him is begging for the guy to try something more, to test you—to unleash you. 
The guy scoffs the second he sees Joel. “That old man is your boyfriend? Come on, baby,” his hand reaches for the crook of your elbow. “You can do so much better than that,” he taunts. 
And that was the something more you needed. Immediately your hand takes hold of his wrist, twisting the man to face the bar in a rough fashion as you lean him over the bar counter, his arm twisted behind his back, shoulder ready to snap out of his socket with the tiniest of movements. 
“Wanna say that again?” You seethe, knocking the breath from his lungs as you push him into the wooden counter. 
“I said—” 
He’s cut off by his own high-pitched scream. You push his arm higher, a sharp pain shooting through every nerve center in the guy’s arm. 
“Sweetheart,” a southern twang says softly, but it’s not your man. Tommy. “I know he probably deserves it, darlin’, but it’s not worth it,” he says, not wanting to aggravate you more. Everyone knows not to test you. 
Well, apparently not everyone. 
You roll your eyes, knowing Tommy’s just trying to keep up the liveliness of tonight. “Fine,” you mutter. Leaning closer into the guy, you whisper into his ear. “Talk about my fuckin’ man like that again, and I’ll snap your shoulder so fuckin’ hard, Jackson’s doctors won’t even know what to do with ya. Ya hear me?” You’re not from the South, and before the outbreak, you’ve never even been. But get angry enough, and Joel’s twang possesses you.
You release the crying boy with a shove, and you back up, wanting to pull yourself away from the situation. Your back is met with something hard, and immediately you know who it is. You soften in his touch as his arms immediately wrap around your waist. “You alright, babygirl?” Joel rasps in your ear. You can feel his fucking hard-on pressed against your back. 
The guy looks at you and Joel, chest still heaving as his face turns into disgust, a fuck you muttered under his breath, an aftertaste of jealousy on his lips. 
Smiling wildly at the guy in front of you, you snake your hand up to wrap around Joel’s jaw before you turn your head back and tilt your head up, pulling Joel into an open-mouthed kiss, your tongue pushing into his mouth as he eagerly sucks it, lapping up your spit. He groans into you, his arms pulling you impossibly tighter into him. 
You pull away with a harsh nip to his lip, feeding off the little whimper Joel lets out. “Baby,” he whines. 
You look back to the guy, and the silent audience you’ve accumulated. “Come on, cowboy,” you breathe. “I’m not done with you.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replies happily, spinning you two around and walking out with you still pressed against him. 
The bar stays quiet after a beat. Tommy’s hand slaps the bar counter before he speaks. “Well. Get the music back going unless y’all wanna hear ‘em goin’ at it all night!” The bar roars in laughter, the music coming back to life. 
Before returning back to Maria, Tommy turns to the guy. “You. Out.” 
He scrambles without looking back.
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“Oh my God, baby.”
“Fuck— I- I can’t, baby, I can’t hold it much longer, baby, I need to come.”
“Just one more second, baby.”
“Mama, please,” he cries out, his head lolling from side to side on his sweat-soaked pillow as you grind your hips into his pelvis, lifting yourself on and off him every other moment. His hands hold onto your hips, not in a way to control your movement but to simply feel you. 
“Oh, come on, be a good boy for me, baby,” you moan, your hand fixing itself onto his jaw to make him look at you. “Just wanna feel you twitch inside me a little bit more ‘fore you make a mess inside me, okay?”
“Oh, fuck— yes, yes, mama, yes, okay,” he rambles, trying his hardest to breathe through the pleasurable pain as you take and take and take. 
A particular grind sends your back arching, his pubes soaked in your arousal nudging perfectly against your clit, sending an electric pulse up your spine. You cry out in ecstasy, your climax hitting you instantly. “Oh fuck, oh shit- fuckfuckfuck, baby, come with me— come inside me, baby, fucking fill me,” you nearly scream, hoping that boy can hear you now. 
“Shit, baby, oh my God- fuck- I’m coming, mama, holy fuck- I-” he stutters, his thigh muscles shaking underneath you as you bounce on him through his climax, the mix of his spend with yours bouncing lewdly across the walls of your shared bedroom. 
Your hips come to a slow but never stop, your chest heaving as you lean down to bring your lips to Joel. You let them ghost across his lips, but you don’t let them touch. He knows better not to chase it, not yet, anyway. He can still feel you fuming. 
You can do so much better than that.
“Can you fucking believe him?” You whisper against his lips, barely audible yet fucking scary nonetheless. 
Joel thinks that boy is right, deep down. Even though he’d never want you to leave him, and you’d never want him to leave you. Joel thinks that there’s a crumb of moral rightness in that statement. But he keeps that to himself. 
Nevertheless, you know Joel like the back of your hand. He doesn’t need to utter a lick of anything to you. You already know what he’s thinking. 
“Joel,” you say again. “I asked you a question.”
All questions must be answered. 
Fuck. 
“Y-yeah, baby,��� he rumbles, too distracted by the comments from the bar, but mainly still caught up in the way his softening come-covered cock is still nestled inside of you. 
You sit up now. A whine leaves his throat at the movement. “So you do believe him?” 
Only then does he realize what he said. His eyes shoot up to yours. “W-wait, no, baby, ‘m sorry, no. No, I don’t believe him, baby,” he panics. 
You quirk your eyebrow at him. 
“The fuckin’ audacity on ‘em,” he adds for good measure. 
You’re silent for a beat. Then—
“You’re lying.”
Joel’s heart starts to race. “No, baby. Please. Mama, I’m not lyin’,” he tries. 
Still straddling his hips, you grab onto his bicep, pulling upward. He gets the hint and sits up. He’s still inside you, his cock slowly growing to full mast again the longer you sit here. 
You’re face to face now. His arms are loosely wrapped around your waist, your arms tightly around his neck.
“Look me in my eye,” you whisper, “and tell me you’re the best I ever had.”
Joel audibly gulps. 
Slow— so slow, your hips begin to move again. A breathy little moan escapes your mouth, and he lunges forward for you, his tongue dancing along the tip of yours, swallowing your breath. You allow it. 
“Tell me,” you groan into his mouth, practically swallowing his tongue as you shallowly bounce yourself on him. 
“Baby,” he whines, getting lost in this dance of heat and sweat he’s become utterly addicted to. 
You break yourself away from his mouth, not allowing him the option to reach for you anymore. He pulls back, eyes wild and sad. His mouth turned down into a literal pout. 
“My poor baby,” you mutter. “Tell me what I wanna hear,” you say again. “Or you’re not getting my lips nor are you coming for the rest of the night,” you tell him, switching back into your grinding motion to stimulate your sensitive bud, letting him feel the way your pussy flutters around him. 
“Baby,” he begs again as you grind, your warmth forcing him to another climax. Please don’t make me say it, he’s trying to convince you. 
Your fingers find their home at the base of his salt and pepper curls, tugging them in warning. “Tell. Me.”
You force his body down to lay flat on the bed again, towering over him, allowing your body the space to lift yourself off of him, only his tip inside of you. He takes a sharp breath in, knowing what’s coming. 
You drop yourself down on him, fucking yourself on his cock at a bruising pace. You grab his hands and drag them up to your chest, wrapping his thick digits around you encouraging him to squeeze. 
“Fuck- mama, I’m gonna—”
“No the fuck you’re not, baby,” you moan, lost in the pleasure but still rightfully in charge. “Swear to God, Joel, gonna leave you fucking swollen and pulsing for a fucking week— oh fuck,” you cut yourself off, a familiar sensation building at the base of your spine, sending you convulsing around his length yet again. 
Joel’s eyes clamp shut, finally giving into your request so he can finally let go. “I— shit, I’m the—” a rugged moan forces itself out, “—the best you ever had, mama, please, the fuckin’ best, baby,” he cries out, his hips bucking up into you as he covers every inch of you with his spend. 
“Shit,” you moan, his words affecting you a lot more than you anticipated, your hips doing overtime, unable to find it within you to stop even as he begins to soften. “Yes, fuck, that’s my boy, shit—” you breathe, “—the fucking best, always make me feel so fucking good, baby.”
His hands finally use their strength, trying his best to slow you with ease, his nerves reaching the point of painful overstimulation. “Alright, baby, alright,” he winces. 
Recognizing his limits, you immediately begin to slow, lowering yourself onto his heaving chest. You let him slip out of you this time, giving him an actual break. “I’m sorry,” you whisper into his chest. 
“For what, baby?” Joel responds with a kiss into your head.
“Did I go too far?”
He couldn’t help the belly laugh that shakes the both of you. You immediately sit back up, your hands on his chest to keep your limp body up. “What?” you glare at him.
“Too far? Which part, darlin’? Nearly breakin’ that guy’s shoulder or my dick?”
A belly laugh erupts out of you this time. Taking a moment to compose yourself, you respond. “...Both.”
“Mmm…” Joel puts on a fake thinking face. “Maybe to the former, but not at all to the latter,” he hums, his hands finding the back of your head to pull you in for a chaste kiss. 
You hum into his lips, a smile stretching across your cheeks. 
Resting your head on his chest, you let a few moments pass before you speak again. “Tommy’s not gonna invite us to another one of those, huh?” 
“Probably not, mama,” he smiles. “Probably not.”
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I’d love to hear what you think!! Any feedback or interactions with you all truly brightens my day. So so so much love for you all. Thank you for being here 🩶
I cannot get myself to write for Joel or for TLOU without mentioning the horrors occurring in Palestine. Please check out the links in my navigation + bio to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.
graphics by @saradika-graphics (middle divider in fic by me)
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emchant3d · 9 months
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It’s the fourth time this week Eddie’s been late without a phone call.
Sure, his job has him working weird hours - Steve gets it. But he also knows his schedule and he knows the days Eddie works at the bar til close and he knows the days he’s supposed to be home before dark, and he hasn’t had a closing shift once this week. 
Yet he came home near ten tonight, and Steve had been worried and nervous and yes, sure, a little - a lot - insecure about it, and maybe he’d lashed out first, or maybe Eddie had, Steve doesn’t know, but he knows they’re standing in the living room shouting at one another and it’s all coming to a head and he can’t stop himself, can’t keep from getting loud and angry and–
"Do you even want to fucking be here?" he yells.
"Not when you're acting like this!" Eddie says, and Steve's throat goes tight like there's a fist wrapped around it. 
Not when he's acting like this, he thinks. Not when he's being too needy. Too pushy. Too demanding.
Something in his brain feels like it rewires. Their relationship flips on its head, and suddenly fear is coiling in Steve's stomach, not anger. 
He'll lose Eddie if he keeps pushing like this. If he demands too much of his time, pulls him away from what he'd rather be doing, makes himself too much work, he'll lose him. Eddie always said he wasn't going anywhere. That he loves Steve, wants to be with him, will never get tired of him. Steve was a fucking idiot to take that at face value.
He feels sick to his stomach. He wants to apologize, wants to tell Eddie to forget all about what he said, wants to show how sorry he is, but between one moment and the next he's feeling like a guest in his own home, and he's very familiar with how it feels to be unwelcome.
So instead he shakes his head. Eddie wants to be left alone, probably. Doesn't want to see Steve when he's mad at him. Doesn't want to deal with him. He'll make himself scarce.
"I'm staying in the guest room tonight," he says stiffly, and turns away, only faltering a little when Eddie mumbles 'what the fuck ever' behind him. He flinches when Eddie slams the front door and closes the spare room so quietly it barely even clicks.
– Eddie gets home late.
Like, late-late. Steve hears the front door open as he's staring at the clock on the bedside table, the bright red numbers burning into his vision. Why did they even put a fucking clock in here, he thinks. It's the guest room. Why did he insist on furnishing this room like someone might live in it? Like this was a home people would be in and out of, like their family would come and stay with them long enough to need an alarm clock on the bedside table?
Desperate, a voice in his head hisses at him, desperate and needy and full of wishful thinking that someone would want to stay around sad little Steve Harrington long enough to need anything--
Eddie's coming down the hallway. He's trying to be quiet, but he forgot to take his shoes off at the door and his Reeboks squeak a little against the hardwood. It's a familiar sound. Comforting, usually. It's how he knows his honey's made it home safe when he's out late, that tell-tale squeak and the little stumbles when he's tipsy and making his way through their home after a long gig.
There was no gig tonight, though, and Eddie's footsteps are steady and even despite the soft sound of rubber on wood. He isn't drunk, Steve doesn't think - and is that better or worse? That he left after a fight and didn't even go somewhere to drink it off. Where has he been, if not their usual bar to think about what they'd spat at one another, trying to think of solutions, of apologies?
And is Steve really owed an apology? He was overbearing. He was pushy. He was demanding and authoritative and too fucking much all over again, and Eddie lashed out in response, and does Steve deserve an apology after all that? He's been going around in circles with himself all evening about it, arguing in his own head, saying yes I deserve one because my feelings were hurt and no I don't deserve one because I lashed out first and how does he answer this for himself? He doesn't know.
He knows he'd do just about anything to make the empty feeling in his chest go away, though. Knows that he'd shove his hurt away and eat his words and apologize to Eddie and never, ever push again if it meant he knew where they stood. If it meant Eddie would forgive him and never storm out like that again, if it meant Steve knew he wouldn't be left alone like this to wonder if Eddie was coming back.
And he feels so dramatic - he can hear Robin's voice already, telling him it was just a fight, that there's no reason to get this worked up about it, but Steve can't help it. Slammed doors and loneliness are the soundtrack to his childhood and he can't help the panic he feels when someone he loves leaves.
"Do you want to be here?" he'd asked, like a fucking idiot, and Eddie hadn't said yes. Steve swallows around the lump that's taken up permanent residence in his throat. Reaches to swipe a hand over his face, rubbed raw, eyes burning with tears he won't let fall because what right does he have to cry? He brought this on himself. He always brings it on himself.
Eddie's feet are still squeaking their way slowly down the hallway, he's trying not to wake Steve - or is he just trying not to be noticed? Impossible, if Eddie Munson is in a room Steve is going to notice, how can he not? He's been yanked into that gravitational pull and there's no escape for him, not anymore, he's a moon circling around the solar system and Eddie is the sun, burning bright and pulling focus and what is Steve to do in the face of that?
He keeps his eyes fixed on the clock. Watches the display change when a minute's passed. Feels his heartbeat stutter when Eddie's shuffling, squeaking steps pause outside the guest room.
They keep a hall light on at night. It's on a dimmer, turned down way low, but neither of them do well with complete darkness. Too many nightmares, too many shadows haunting and hunting the both of them. Steve can see the muted glow of it from beneath the door.
He can also see when Eddie comes to a stop because his feet block that light. Two shadows in the doorframe, obscuring the soft haze of warm orange that creeps in a half-moon over the carpet, and Steve stops breathing. There's a soft shifting noise, fabric over wood, a gentle thunk when Eddie leans against the guest room door, and Steve almost calls out to him. Almost says I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, please don't leave again, please don't leave me, but the words stick in his throat. Ball's in Eddie's court, as it should be when Steve fucked up so bad, when he tried to ruin it all, when he made Eddie so mad that he left when he promised Steve he would never do that. Eddie's a good man. Keeps his word. Steve's the problem, Steve is always the goddamn problem, always will be, ruins and stains everything he fucking touches–
The shadow disappears. Steve squeezes his eyes shut so tight he sees lights popping behind his lids. Those shuffling squeaking steps continue their way down the hall. Steve feels like he's going to throw up but he didn't have dinner so there's nothing in his belly but bile and nothing comes up even though his throat is tight and his stomach is fucking rolling.
The bedroom door - their bedroom door - creaks on its hinges. Steve keeps meaning to put some WD-40 on it but he kind of likes that it makes a noise, that when he's asleep it's just loud enough to wake him halfway and tell him to anticipate the warm wash of tobacco and sandalwood that will cloud him when Eddie slips beneath the covers. Lets him know he's about to be grabbed and groped a little bit, sweet little kisses pressed to his shoulder and neck and jawline until he's got a face tucked into the curve of his throat, until he's giving a sleepy smile and winding his arms around a trim waist and dragging Eddie in close, sputtering and laughing tiredly as wild hair gets in his face and mouth before he falls asleep again, wrapped tight around the love of his life.
None of that tonight, apparently - and he doesn't blame him. No, he hears the bedroom door creak and it feels like a punishment that he deserves and his eyes burn and burn and burn and his face is wet now, he can't help it, and he wipes at it again angrily, takes the soft blanket to his face and why is it so soft why does Steve try so hard when he knows he won't get anything back why does he try to build a home when he's never had one and never will and is going to lose the one he's clawed onto so desperately and tried so hard to keep–
The door creaks again. Steve takes a stuttering breath. Eddie's steps are soft now as they come down the hallway, bare feet on the floor, almost silent as he creeps his way closer. Steve clenches his teeth so hard his jaw aches, anything to hold back the sounds he wants to make - he can't let Eddie hear him. He can't let Eddie know he's crying. That's manipulative, isn't it? Crying in front of the person he hurt? He won't do it, won't be that selfish, but that shadow appears at the base of the door again. Steve can't help the shaky inhale he takes, and it sounds so fucking loud in the quiet of the guest room, choked and echoing. 
"Baby?" Eddie says, voice low and quiet, rapping so gently against the door with one knuckle. "You in there, Stevie?" 
Just the sound of him is enough to send his heart crashing around in his ribcage, fluttering and jumping and making Steve tense. He wants to answer but he can’t get the words to form, his throat feels sealed shut, and he wonders if he should answer even if he were able because what could Eddie possibly have to say right now? It can’t be anything good and Steve doesn’t know if he can take it right now, in this room that makes him feel like a guest in his own home - but isn’t he always a guest? Isn’t that what he’s made to be, a temporary stop in everyone else’s story?
But he’s not ready for Eddie to move past him yet. Not tonight. Let it happen in the morning if it has to happen, let him put this off just a little longer. Just please, not tonight. Not yet.
But Eddie’s never been known for his patience, and the click of the latch has Steve slamming his eyes closed. Too late to roll over and hide his face, but he’s got enough time to duck down and tuck most of his features into a pillow. He tries to let his body relax, to let the tense lines of his muscles uncoil and his shoulders drop and his fists unclench, but he can’t tell if he’s managed it and the ache in his palms from his blunt nails tells him maybe he did, but it won’t help much.
Eddie makes his way across the carpet in silent steps, and the mattress dips with his weight as he sits on the edge of it. Steve’s fingers twitch to reach for him, but he just curls them into the sheets instead and hopes the motion looks absent enough to have happened in his sleep. 
He smells sandalwood and tobacco and feels the warmth from Eddie being so near but it feels like there’s a wall between them, one he can’t cross even if he tries, one he’s barred from so much as touching. 
He works hard to keep his breathing even but it’s hitching now and then despite his best efforts, shaky and too loud in the silent room, but he keeps up the charade even though the end of it all is perched right in front of him. And it’s Eddie who puts an end to it. It was always Eddie who was going to put an end to it.
“I know you’re awake,” he says, and Steve squeezes his eyes tighter like that’ll make it untrue, like he can just drift off in a second if he wills it hard enough. Eddie shifts on the mattress, and Steve curls tighter into himself. “Let’s just hash this out, huh? Get it over with.” Steve bites his tongue so hard he thinks he might taste blood. It’s that simple for Eddie - but it’s always simple, isn’t it? Cut and dry, plain as day, Steve is the only one who can never see it coming, it’s written on the goddamn walls for everyone else.
He risks peeking through his lashes but Eddie’s got his back to him so it doesn’t even matter, not really. Eddie isn’t looking at him and so Steve allows himself to look, takes in the hunch of Eddie’s shoulders, the curve of his spine beneath his thin pajama shirt - he’d changed, when he’d made his way through their creaky bedroom door, took off his clothes and put his pajamas on and kicked off those tennis shoes, they’re probably in a pile at the foot of the bed for Steve to trip over and he will miss tripping over them, he’ll miss it terribly.
He wonders if he’ll need to move. If he’ll have to find a new place and separate out all of their things into his things, if SteveAndEddie’sStuff will become Steve’s stuff and Eddie’s stuff. Or maybe he’ll just start staying in this guest room, maybe that’s why he furnished this room so completely, because somehow he knew he’d end up alone in it.
“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, and Steve inhales sharply.
“Don’t,” he says, and somehow he keeps his voice steady.
“So you are awake,” Eddie says, and he tries to sound teasing, sound playful, but it drops like a stone in this space between them. No room for levity in the dark cloud Steve’s filled this room with. He wishes he could be easygoing and let go gently, but it’s Eddie - in what world could he take losing him graciously?
“Yeah,” he says, and he stares at Eddie’s back as the other raises his head, but he still doesn’t turn to look at Steve, and he wishes he could at least look him in the face when he rips his heart out of his chest.
part 2
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norrizzandpia · 2 months
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bff reader x lando where they’re at a party maybs in monaco? pool party and stuff and the night gets messy but lando and reader stays out in the pool till late,and he becomes all clingy bc it’s getting cold and he likes reader 🥹 coz i’m a sucker for bff x lando aswell as cute smutty jealous lando,idk if you’ll be able to make something out of this but thank uuuu ☺️ xoxo
I love a good best friends to lovers
His (LN4)
Summary: When a fun pool party turns into a hurtful disaster, the only good thing to come from it is two confessions.
Warnings: wandering hands 😏, y/n’s ex, slightly jealous Lando, PROTECTIVE lando, the use of “whore” (not in an attractive way) language, major fluff at the end like i was blushing at my own writing
Note: I THINK I LOVE THIS ONE GUYS
To be honest, nobody told Y/n that her ex, David, was on the invite list. As she stood next to Max, him a rambling and blushing mess over Pietra - who was laughing with her friends in the cutest bikini across the way, Y/n tried to convince herself that her eyes were lying. There was no way in hell David was walking through the door to the backyard of whosever house Lando had dragged her to. There was no way in hell David was making eye contact with her, a sickening smile on his face as her presence greeted him. There was no way in hell David was walking toward her.
No way in hell.
Except, there was!
David’s hand squeezed the flesh of her arm as he grinned down at her, “Y/n! What’re you doing here?”
She blinked a few times, her fingers slightly denting the plastic of her cup as his sliminess seeped into her skin, “David! Lando brought me here. What about you?”
The problem with David was that he was always intimidated by Lando. Whether that was because Lando had a bigger build and had a few inches on him or because of the fact that Lando was more successful, she never could tell. However, all she knew was that one of the reasons they broke up was because of his continuous insecurity that controlled their fights over Lando. No matter how many times she reassured him or told him Lando was just a friend, David would never relent. In his mind, Lando and her were basically fucking on the side.
His eyes turned a darker shade, “Lando’s here?”
She nodded, “Yes, he got invited and had a plus one.”
David scoffed, “Oh, and you’re the plus one, I suppose.”
“Yes, she is.” Lando’s voice interrupted the conversation. His body stuck to Y/n’s side like glue, his hand around her waist, as he stared the man down. Another problem with their previous relationship - Lando and David hated each other. At first, Lando had kept an open mind to his best friend’s boyfriend, albeit he was a little standoffish, but the moment Y/n started to show up at his door - sobbing - in the middle of the night because of some bullshit David had said during a fight, Lando was immediately turned off.
Lando was always protective over the people he loved, attentive and caring to its fullest potential. But, with Y/n, there had always been an inherent need to be there for her through everything from the moment he met her. The way he was with her stood out among the rest. They could try and explain the deep connection away with certain things they shared in common, they had tried, but everybody knew.
David’s chest puffed up higher, not enough to scare Lando though, “Lando.”
Each syllable drenched in a need to exert dominance, David’s words made the McLaren Driver glance down at the girl tucked under his arm. His eyes, the ones she could always read, asked for her to trust him. She always would. She smiled back at him.
With the reassurance, Lando’s hand came to rest dangerously low on her back, “Is there anything more you need to say to my girlfriend?”
She did trust him, just didn’t expect that to come out of his mouth. Her fingers almost ripped through the cup in her hands as her firm hold continued.
David’s eyes bulged, “Girlfriend?!”
From some place deep within herself, one she had never met before, Y/n nodded feverishly, “Yeah, we got together a few months ago.”
Lando’s body leaned into her and it all began to feel… comfortable. They would never address it, but there was always some sort of unspeakable tension between them that made hangouts and interactions a bit intense and awkward, too much for people who were supposed to be the closest of friends. For once, as their hands were allowed to sit nicely on places they had been too aware of every time they touched each other, that sense of heightened uncertainty was completely gone.
Replaced was warm palms.
A soft smile plastered on Lando’s face was quickly gone the moment David laughed, “Oh, I saw this coming for ages.” His gaze, dangerous and angry, shifted to Y/n and Lando almost moved his entire body in front of her. Honestly, he wished he had as David mumbled in her direction, “Whore.”
Max, sipping on his drink off to the side, choked as he watched Lando’s entire body tense up. His arm, that was once wrapped around his “girlfriend”, very quickly came to clutch the man’s shirt, shoving him harshly.
“What’d you say?!” Lando said, right in his face as Pietra came to pull Y/n away. The two girls held hands tightly as the entire party’s attention was turned toward the spectacle that was Y/n’s ex-boyfriend and her speculated new one.
David’s face went pale, “Nothing.”
Lando pushed him away once more, slapping his chest harshly before pointing a finger in his face, “Say that about her again and I will make your life a living hell, I swear to God.”
David coughed out an apology to which Lando spit on his shoes and said, “Say it to her not me, dick.”
Her eyes caught his as he stuttered it out, pure fear etched into them - something she had never seen before. He was always eager to make her feel scared during an argument. It was weird to see him in the same position he had put her in multiple times before.
When he stumbled away, out the same door he had come from twenty minutes before, Lando stopped being concerned with the cameras around him, waltzing right up to his Y/n and holding her head in his hands. He whispered, “You good?”
She nodded, leaning into his hands as he began to lead her into the house. She knew it was his friend’s house, but she didn’t expect for him to know the complete layout of it when he brought her to the kitchen so effortlessly.
She looked around, “I’m not hungry.”
He nodded, shrugged, “I know, but I thought we could hide out in here while everyone filters out.”
Her head peeked around the corner and, sure enough, the guests who were once lingering around the pool in the back were now scurrying through the door.
Lando chuckled, “Guess David’s a downer.”
An hour later, dinner ingested and everybody gone, Y/n found herself back in the backyard. Her body laid against the concrete of the pool as she stared at the place where David had been, calling her names, an hour and a half before. It hurt to think about, wonder if that’s what he had genuinely thought of her throughout their relationship. Nobody knew that it all got to her, the comments under Lando’s posts about her being something entertaining for him and the others on Twitter talking about the same things David had muttered before, but it did. No matter how much she tried to make it seem as though she knew those claims were ridiculous, a part of her did, she had gradually begun to internalize it all, creating a deep sore spot.
Nobody knew.
Well, except for him.
Lando’s footsteps pattered against the cold ground before they begun splashing around as he submerged himself in the water. She turned around to see him, one arm hanging on to the edge of the pool while the other wadded in the water. He smiled at her as he begun swimming toward her, coming to rest skin-to-skin right next to her.
He looked on at the spot she was so infatuated with before whispering, “You know what he said was completely wrong, right?”
All she could do was nod, her voice would not be convincing. She knew that. Lando knew that and that’s why his arm creeped around her torso, holding her close.
His mouth was right next to her ear, “It’s not true, Y/n.”
There was a deep sincerity in his words that hit her heart hard, prompting her fingers to trail up his arm before clutching his shoulder. Her head turned, their faces inches apart, and she smiled, “Thank you.”
His body fell further into the water as he let go of the edge, pulling her flush against him right after. He was gentle in his touches as he guided her legs to wrap around him, continuing to hold her waist as her arms wrapped around his neck. A dark, starry sky above them illuminated the twinkle in Lando’s eye. One Y/n found hard to explain away.
He pushed the wet hair out of her face, “He didn’t know what he had.”
Her fingers traced and memorized the sharpness of his cheekbones, “Are you saying you do?”
Her question, however bold, opened their friendship up. For once, one of them was giving the other the opportunity to confess whatever had manifested throughout the time they’d spent together.
She could see it in his eyes, the hesitation and fear in moving into that space with her. Sure, they had been uncomfortable together before, but this was different. This was an opening for something that could make or break them.
This was life or death to Lando.
Though, by the way she smiled at him, he knew he would be stupid, wrong her like David had, if he continued to sweep it all under the rug, “Yes.”
Her hands stopped moving about his face, instead cradling it, “What does that mean, Lan?”
Her question made his heart stop, the moment it all came down to, “Y/n, I hated seeing you with him. I hated seeing you with all of them. I couldn’t stand to see you hanging onto someone else’s arm. It made my skin crawl. And, today, when I got to be the guy that had you under his arm, especially when I got to look your satanic ex-boyfriend in the eye and tell him you were mine, nothing felt better than that. I’ve always known what I had when it came to you. I just wish you would let me show that.”
Her hands tangled in his hair as he continued to hold her, his feet stabilizing them as he stood in the pool. She exhaled a breath, took a moment to think, before leaning closer, “I never said you couldn’t.”
Even in the cold of the night, his face warmed with a tinge of redness. He squeezed her lightly, allowing a moment of silence to pass as they looked at each other before whispering back, “It’s chilly out here.”
Her giggling warmed his body, “Lan, what does that have to do with any of this?”
His hand moved delicately up her back before resting on the nape of her neck, pulling her lips closer, “I’m thinking a kiss or two might warm us up.”
She smiled again and her thumb rubbed against his jawline, “Oh, I got it. I love that idea.”
Max and Pietra watched from the living room, hearing Lando laugh before the two were kissing in the soft light of the backyard. The couple rejoiced on the couch, jumping and down with no regard for Max and Lando’s friend yelling at them to get down. However, once he looked to see what they were screaming about, he joined them too. It felt like everyone had been waiting for this moment. The moment when Y/n and Lando realized that their friendship was never just that and the love they had for each other was never just love. It was something completely indescribable, but as long as the whispers of love they shared between kisses in that pool continued, that would feel like enough.
It sure as hell was more than enough for the smiling, blushing idiot of a Brit who was kicking himself for not telling his Y/n just how much of his she really had been all along.
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sttoru · 1 month
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hueheueheu if its okay can i req rich bf aventurine? Always spoiling reader and buys everything she wants 🥹🥹
✸ SYNOPSIS. your boyfriend, aventurine spoils you in more ways than one when you come back to your shared hotel room in penacony.
note. uhh, this actually turned out a tad more melodramatic than i expected help, i put some of my own twists in there. first aventurine fic so sorry if its too ooc !
tags. aventurine x female reader. fluff, bits of angst, suggestive. reader gets called ‘baby, pretty’. use of aventurine’s real name once. reader is a bit insecure at one point. little bits of penacony and aventurine lore / subtle spoiler to the 2.1 quest. wc: 1.4k-ish
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“c’mere, pretty.” aventurine’s voice soothes your weary body the moment you step into your shared hotel room. you’ve just gotten back from some business you had to take care of—a couple hours of your valuable day wasted because of it.
you’re greeted by your lover sitting on one of the red couches, accompanied by various bags and boxes all around the space. aventurine shoots you his signature smile. one that’s actually genuine. the one he only shows you.
“must’ve been tough, hm? i’m sorry i couldn’t help you out,” the blonde man sighs as he stands up to meet you halfway. a gloved hand finds its way onto yours, fingers intertwining without wasting a second.
aventurine places a delicate kiss on your palm and slowly moves down to your wrist. his beautiful eyes lure you in, “you’d forgive me for that, right?”
you don’t realise that you’re practically frozen in place until he chuckles in amusement. you snap out of it and clear your throat, trying to get yourself together, “y-yeah. i understand you’re busy ‘n all. it’s no problem.”
aventurine hums in response. there’s a faint flash of guilt in his eyes before it disappears like it was never there. like it was a delusion. well, perhaps it was. staying in penacony for too long causes you to have difficulties differing reality from dreams and vice versa.
“i’m happy to have you back with me,” aventurine pulls you closer by the small of your back. he presses you against him until your chests are touching. his breath is pleasantly warm against your bare skin, “i’ve been waiting for you all day.”
the tension in the hotel room is heavy. it’s like this every time you’re with your lover. the spark never dies between you two. it never will. you both need each other, in unspoken ways.
you avert your gaze to the ground. no matter how much time you spend with aventurine, his affectionate gestures never fail to make you melt into a puddle. maybe it’s in those eyes of his. or in his homelike touch.
aventurine continues peppering you with kisses. he doesn’t miss a spot—every patch of skin you’re showing is showered in his love. that’s one of the only ways he can illustrate those complicated feelings inside of him.
his lips eventually find yours, like a force drawn to a magnet. you cup his face and deepen the kiss. your lips move in sync, slowly and passionately. you need this as much as he does.
the way he’s holding onto your coat—his fingers digging into the material as if he’s missed you greatly. . . his tongue trying to seek entrance into your mouth as if he can’t wait to be one with you. to try and love you like you love him. . .
a light hearted chuckle makes you pull away. you open your eyes and find aventurine grinning down at you, his finger rubbing your bottom lip gently to tease you.
“haha, how cute.” the blonde man snickers at your needy expression. he knows what you want, and he wants it as well, though there’s enough time for that after, “we can get to that later, yeah?”
"aww, 'kay,” you nod with a pout, to which aventurine responds by gently flicking your forehead. he grabs your hand and leads you to the nearby table. you can’t even see the surface because of the numerous boxes placed on it.
“i want to show you what i got you first,” aventurine continues, sitting down on the comfy couch. he pulls you onto his lap and wraps one arm around your waist, the other one reaching out towards the mountain of fancy gifts.
you can easily recognise the expensive bags by now. aventurine is known for spoiling you rotten. the overpriced brands are nothing but child's play to the lucky man. money isn’t a worry to him, nor should it be for you, as he says every time you feel the slightest bit guilty for his big spendings on you.
“kakavasha..” you mutter under your breath. aventurine doesn't respond, but he reassures you by lightly tightening his grip on your waist. you turn your head and look at him. he isn’t looking back at you this time. rather, he’s looking down at the box in your hand, patiently waiting for you to open it.
you wordlessly undo the wrappers and open up the first gift of many. it’s an earring. one that resembles his. it shines brightly once you pick it up. the color is beautiful, as it reminds you of your lover.
you don’t know what to say. you don’t want to guess how much aventurine has spent on it either. you love him, that you surely do, but are you really deserving of this much? he spoils you every day. all that money he spends on you without hesitation makes you overthink.
you shake your head and try to get those negative thoughts out of your head. you don’t want to ruin this precious moment all too much. you smile fondly and put the earring on, “thank you so much. it's so pretty.”
the jewelry dangles off your left ear, the opposite of where aventurine’s got his hanging. the blonde man silently admires you. the light illuminating the stones gives you an ethereal look. especially in a dimly lit room with only a few light sources.
“no need to thank me, baby,” aventurine murmurs, his voice a surprisingly soft whisper. his thumb trails down the shell of your ear and eventually touches the earring again. the fact that you’re wearing the exact same one as he is, but on the opposite ear, is doing indescribable things to him.
you complete each other.
all his life, aventurine has never properly taken the time to appreciate his gift; his luck. he is doing so now—with you in his embrace. it’s like his surroundings have come to a halt. all that his eyes are focusing on, is you. the image of you in his arms.
“it suits you perfectly.” aventurine’s voice trembles lightly. he doesn't know why he's feeling like this. he’s overwhelmed by how lucky he is to have someone so breath-takingly beautiful in his presence. “gorgeous—you’re gorgeous.”
aventurine is not the only one who’s flustered. your own heart is pounding in your chest. your lover knows just what buttons to push to make you all flustered. he succeeds without fail every single time.
you lean your head against his shoulder and wrap your arms around his torso. aventurine welcomes the affection without a word. you look up at your partner with a softened expression before complimenting him back, “no, you are. you are beautiful."
aventurine’s eyes widen for a split second, his lips parting. you’s aware of the effects your compliments have on him. they make him feel giddy, however he also isn’t the best at expressing that. he regains his composure and grins, “oh, really? hah, how flattering.”
you giggle quietly and nod. you’re content with this. being in your lover’s arms after a rough day, unpacking the many gifts he got you, receiving his attention and affection. you wish you could do this for eternity.
after you’ve shared your precious moment together, aventurine leans agains the back of the couch and pulls you into a warm hug. one you both simply had to have. your lover starts to pat your head in a soothing manner.
the silence in the hotel room is deafening. the opened gifts and abandoned wrappers lay scattered around the table and floor. the static of the television in the distance is somehow comforting.
both aventurine and you realise that this instant will be over as soon as the next day arrives. it’s but a fleeting moment, one that will sooner or later be just another memory. you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck and he answers this by kissing your forehead. his lips leave a tingling sensation on your skin.
the comfortable silence continues for a couple seconds more. aventurine stares up at the ceiling. he’s sure that he’s satisfied for now, yet there’s still unease boiling in the pit of his stomach.
perhaps it’s due to his knowledge of the near future. his grande plan.
but, that’s not what’s important. not when aventurine can feel and hear your heartbeat right next to him. he hasn’t lost it all. not yet. he’s still got time to spend with the other gift that was bestowed upon him at birth: you.
“you’ll stay with me, right? no matter what.”
aventurine’s sudden question breaks the quiet atmosphere. you open your eyes again and tilt your head back, gazing down at your lover. one look at his face and you know that he needs your honesty at the moment. more than anything else in the entire universe.
you nod and lean in to kiss him—to show him that you mean it when you say; “yes. no matter what.”
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sucker4colby · 9 months
Text
Parties over: Part 2
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Summary : Colby’s in the doghouse after forgetting his girlfriends birthday to hang out with amber. He has to knock down the wall she built around herself.
Warning : angst , jealousy , insecurity, cussing
Pairing: Colby Brock x female reader
Part 1
It took me a moment to be able to tear my gaze away from my reflection and to stop criticizing everything I saw. I had to accept today was going to be one of those where I wasn’t comfortable in my own skin so I just made my way downstairs after changing into shorts and a knitted sweater hoping I wouldn’t see the blue eyed boy I was upset with.
Unfortunately for me he sat at the island eating a bowl of cereal in his own world as our friends did their own thing around him. I noticed how his hair was unruly and he looked tired as If he didn’t sleep last night. My eyes snapped away from him as Sam called out my name. “ there’s breakfast over on the counter if you want some.” The blonde boy pointed over his shoulder at the counter where a stack of waffles resided. I could see Colby’s head snap up from the corner of my eyes to look at me as his friend announced my presence but I avoided looking at him knowing I’d break on the spot to look at him. I smiled at Sam muttering a thank you as I made my way over to the food.
I heard his chair scrape against the floor as he hurriedly walked over to me stopping me from taking a plate . “ I can get your food.” Colby offered grabbing the plate I was reaching for looking down at me. Anger bubbled up inside of me and I glared at him. “ I’m not hungry anymore thanks.” I spat spinning on my heels and walking away from the prying eyes of our friends. He was just going to act like he didn’t blow me off on my birthday to be with another woman and I sure as hell wasn’t going to let that slide.
I might overreacted but If I wasn’t important enough why did he keep the act up, why not just rip the bandage off and break up with me. I sighed walking into the living room to see the mess from last night, cups ,trash bottles of liquor littered every surface. Grabbing a trash bag from the cabinet I began picking up hoping to get a head start before everyone came to help out.
I know he was standing there trying to figure out how to approach me but I couldn’t bring myself to ask him what he needed so I just pretended he wasn’t there. It was a difficult task to do when his blue eyes felt like they were burning a hole in my skin, I could see the distraught look on his face and it hurt my heart but he was the one who messed up.
Finally he cleared his throat to announce his presence as if I didn’t already know, it was hard not know when you’ve memorized the sound of his footsteps and when his presence filled up the whole room. I looked up to meet his sad eyes quirking an eyebrow up at him. “ I have something for you.” He told me in a small voice and brought his hands out in front of him presenting a small black box. I could see him deflect more as he noticed I wasn’t changing my stoic composure towards him. “ I also ordered you a cake from that bakery you like, I know you wanted one of those for your birthday.” He rambled only making me more upset. I hated that I couldn’t stay angry at him, was I really that smitten over him that I’d roll over and act like nothing happened just because it was him.
“ yeah for my birthday Colby.. which was yesterday had you of cared enough you would’ve remembered but how could you ? You were a bit …preoccupied.” I spat out the last word throwing the trash bag on the couch moving past him to go cool off in my room.
I threw myself on the bed and cried wishing my comforter would just hide me away from everything. He was probably trying to be nice so he wouldn’t feel bad once he left me for amber. My chest burned with jealousy at the thought of him doing everything I wanted of him for her, why wasn’t I good enough for him, He was everything for me and maybe that was the problem. I had to make it easier on both of us and end things myself because I know he wouldn’t do it.
I didn’t hear my door open or close but I noticed my bed dip making me wipe my eyes and look out from under cover. I cried even harder once I saw Colby sitting next me. He had tears in his eyes as well as he moved to put me on his lap, I didn’t try to fight him because this is probably the last time I’ll get to be in his arms. I wanted to memorize everything about him before I lost him.
“Baby I’m so sorry, I was a dumbass, I promise I didn’t mean to forget I just had to much on my plate and I got my days mixed up.” He sniffled setting his cheek on my head and caressing my leg knowing that calmed me down. “Do you not love me anymore?" I asked looking down at my lap picking at the loose thread on my knitted sweater. I felt like I could throw up waiting for him to answer me. "What ?" He asked me I could feel the bed shift under his weight as he turned to face me.
My face heated up at having to repeat my previous statement. I was embarrassed I had to ask him if he still loved me , if he did I wouldn't have to ask and save myself the heartache. " if you don't that's ok, i just.. I feel like I should know if you don't love me anymore, no one should be in a relationship without love." I mumbled my voice cracking as I tried to stop myself from crying even more. I could feel the tears pooling at my waterline even more as I tried to stop myself causing me to grow frustrated with myself . I put my hands over my face shielding my face from his view as my body shook after each sob.
“ baby I love you so much it hurts, I’m so sorry I made you feel like this. I’m sorry I made you doubt my love for you.” He whimpered rocking us back and forth holding me tighter to his body. “ I love you so so much, I was looking forward to yesterdays date because that’s the day my love was born, I should’ve been here but I promise I’ll make it up to you now.” He whispered kissing the crown of my head and I wrapped my arms around him. My heart softening “ I could never love anyone the way I love you, I can’t imagine getting so excited to come home to someone that isn’t you, you’re my favorite part of everyday and I don’t ever want to lose that.” His words slowly eased my worries.
I felt horrible because Colby wasn’t a bad person and he’d never intentionally hurt someone. I was so insecure I forgot how kind hearted and pure he was, That’s why I fell in love with him in the first place. I was caught up in my head I almost him because I was being childish. “ I’m sorry, I overreacted.” I hiccuped into his neck as I hugged him close to my body. He let out a small laugh rubbing circles on my back under my sweater. “ I think you under-reacted, I thought I was done for.” He told me causing me to giggle. “ I’m really sorry baby I know you were looking forward to your birthday.” He apologized again leaning back to look at me. I sat back on his lap to look at him. “ I just wanted to be with you, but you’re here now and that’s all I care about.” I told him making sure he knew I just wanted him.
He smiled and placed a kiss on my lips causing a smile to grow on my face. “ that one’s because I’m sorry and these are because you turned 23.” He said before attacking my face with kisses causing me to laugh as he counted each kiss. He let out a quick oh reaching over the bed to retrieve the same black box he had shown me earlier passing it over to me. I shot him a questioning look taking the small box and opening it. My eyes started watering again and I let out a small gasp at the small necklace that rested inside. “ I chose this out a while back and I wanted something you could wear everyday.” He explained taking it out of my hands and moving my hair to the side, I moved on his lap so he could clip it on. “ thank you, I love it.” I told him as he placed a delicate kiss on my expose shoulder where my sweater started slipping off. “ I love you .” He mumbled wrapping his arms around my again pulling my into his chest. I exhaled in relief leaning back and taking comfort in his warmth knowing we’d be ok, I had fallen in love with the sweetest soul and as perfect as he was he was only human, he was bound to make mistakes.
—————
Part 2 guys !!!
I hope you enjoyed it. I almost made them break up but I just couldn’t bring myself to make Colby the bad guy 🥲
Let me know what you guys think !!!
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flicklikesstuff · 3 months
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Idk if anyone else has noticed this but no one brought it up so…..
Remember how Viv said that Husk refuses to embrace his demon form and thus, doesn’t use his wings often for flight?
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And yeah, we never see Husk fly at all prior to Ep 8. In Ep 3, we see him sneak away from the battle exercise, despite the fact that if Vaggie really did throw him, he could’ve easily just flown and skipped it. But he didn’t. And at least we know why.
(Hence, I just have this headcanon that Husk just secretly never knew how to properly fly ever since he first arrived.
Because he felt like he didn’t need to. He had his powers and can handle himself. He used to be a powerful Overlord. And even now, he’s currently under Alastor’s ‘protection.’ Basically, just never really found a reason to learn it, couldn’t be bothered, and simply just because….He doesn’t wanna.)
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But then the threat of the extermination came and everything he grew to care about was at risk. And what does he do?
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He flies.
For the hotel. For his friends.
He even went to see if his bf Angel’s alright. What a sweetie :))
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Since Husk presumably doesn’t do flying a lot usually, it makes sense his back would hurt so much from the excessive strain his wings had to do all of a sudden. He’s not used to this much of flying. Heck, even his poor wings completely drooped to the floor!
He literally gave his back out for his friends- :((
This is going to delve a little bit into headcanon territory from this point onwards. You don’t have to read down if you’re not interested. ⬇️
……..
So Personal Headcanon:
I like to think that in Ep 7, while Vaggie is away with Carmilla and Charlie with Alastor, the other 4 were up to their own shenanigans off screen.
I honestly thought their friendship didn’t get to develop as much as I wanted it to. Especially the interactions with Sir Pentious and Niffty weren’t a lot. The series just established them as close friends and expects us to just take it as word but didn’t really show it much. Maybe Pentious’ death would hit harder if we actually saw him get closer to the others rather than being made fun of all the time.
Anyways, back to the HC, these 4 bonded some more while boarding the place. (Awww, all without being told by Charlie).
And since they knew they’re going to be up against FLYING angels, Angel commented that Husk’s wings can be put to good use for once, rather than just being displayed.
Husk was insecure and got defensive at first, eventually sheepishly admitting he doesn’t know how to use them. Slightly opening up how he hates his current form. While Angel and Pentious were confused at first, they both didn’t make fun of it any further. (Because yay! Development! Charlie would be proud.)
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Husk warms up a little and claims that “Fine, he’ll try for the hotel’s sake but this is a one time thing…blah blah blah.”
Cue Pentious using and teaching his ‘expertise’ on flight from his machines. Angel smirking every time a clueless Pentious discusses the forces of “Lift, Drag, Weight and…ahem. Thrust.” Meanwhile, Husk attempts to ignore Angel but fails to resist smirking back at times. (Because I know Huskerdust fans love collecting crumbs) And later on, Niffty insisting she wants to be the one to push Husk off the balcony for practice.
Which, she does. On Angel’s count of 3. But she pushes him before Angel could even begin counting. Pentious debating and suggesting whether it’s better for the trial to do it ON 3, BEFORE 3, or start from 1. Regardless, Niffty messes each trial up. And Husk is just regretting everything in this nightmare his 3 friends call “training.” This is just one of their many shenanigans btw.
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Eventually though, Husk did get the hang of it….somewhat. He could glide, take off and hover. But couldn’t really stay up long or fly high because his muscles and stamina for flight are terrible since he doesn’t do it often. Thus, why Husk stays very close to the ground during the final battle and only flies short distances. But the 4 considered it good enough.
(Angel made a joke on the “lack of stamina,” and got thrown in the face by a bottle. But yeah, all of them had some fun to a degree and became more emotionally bonded. All before Charlie and Vaggie came back with backup. Woohoo!
Hopefully they won’t see a particular snake die in front of their eyes-)
If any of y’all want to make a fic of this concept, be my guest. The only condition is that you share me the link :))
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iluvpjo · 2 months
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HII !!
HEAR ME OUT. Charlie is definitely a thigh guy,he loveeeees to just lay on ur thighs and kiss them and theyre js so squishy and UGH.
I think he'd be very sweet in general like if you had scars (Sh or just normal scars) he's definitely kiss them and tell you how beautiful they are
REMEMBER TO EAT ENOUGH AND STAY HYDRATED !! 🫂
-🌻
𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓰𝓱 𝓖𝓾𝔂
Synopsis: Charlie being a thigh guy, basically headcanons but also not rlly ??? Idk what this is tbh
Warning(s): IT GETS NSFW! MDNI, thigh stuff, talks abt scars, talks abt sh (in its own seperate bit so ur able to avoid it, I’ll put a warning there)
Pairing: Charlie Bushnell x fem reader (could be seen as GN except for one part where he calls u a sweet girl but you can just imagine otherwise if u wish!)
Word count: 528 words
Notes: I tried to write this n tumblr closed on me n didn’t save my draft ARGH 😭 but I’m so sorry I been away for a moment.. on an unrelated note last night I dreamt abt cuddling w Charlie n omfg
ALSO I’m so sorry it’s a lil short ahhh
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Come find me on AO3!
Send me a request! Here’s my req rules!
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(NSFW-ish!) Charlie whenever he sits beside you will always have a hand on you wether it be on your shoulder or on your knee, or other times where he’ll be squishing you’re thigh under the table in public somewhere. He of course does this at home too, and occasionally if he feels like it sometimes his hand will wander upwards. He still likes to do it nonsexually though, squeezing softly whenever he wants your attention.
(NSFW!) He would love to kiss your thighs while laying between your legs, often using it to tease you and not touch you where you need it the most. He also gets a little distracted, the feeling of your warm cushy thighs near his face can easily make him lose time. Charlie will kiss softly at your thighs, but he will also nip them gently too between his teeth just to watch you yelp and whine.
He would definitely get super hard from eating you out, I mean just in general, but especially when you cum undone and you squeeze your thighs around his head. Fuckkk he’d be in heaven, and he’d let you know that too when he dives back in for round two and has you repeating the same actions over and over. He will do it until you tell him to calm down, but if you don’t then I’m sure he’d be going on forever and ever until something inevitably disrupts the two of you.
(Scar stuff, more specifically sh) If he noticed you had scars on your thighs he wouldn’t be quick to point them out, maybe he’d spend a little extra time kissing over the marks or trailing them gently with his finger tips if they were healed. If they weren’t healed fully though maybe he’d ask about them, cooing softly for you to talk to him about what happened to make you do it. He’d leave it if you didn’t wanna talk about it though, simply comforting you with gentle kisses and cuddles.
“Don’t look at them..” You’d say, perhaps being a little insecure about them when his eyes would linger a little too long on your thighs, and Charlie would smile up at you dumbly before placing soft pecks to them and saying “Why not? Your thighs are so beautiful.” And you’d grow a little flustered. “No, they’re not, my scars-“ he wouldn’t even let you finish the thought about them, because he’d butt in and say “Your scars are beautiful sweet girl, I ‘dunno what you’re talking about..” and then his voice would get muffled n a lil quieter as he gets lost in the feeling of ur soft plushy thighs and he keeps leaving kisses all over them, his hands gripping at them like they’re his favourite thing in the world (and they are, after you as a whole of course.)
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aphroditelovesu · 6 months
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Yandere Golden Trio Headcanons (Platonic)
❝ 🔮 — lady l: another Harry Potter headcanons because my mind is buzzing with ideas yayy!! I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! 💜
❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, jealousy, overprotection and implicit murder.
❝ 🔮pairing: yandere!golden trio/harry potter, hermione granger and ron weasley x gender neutral!reader.
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You probably did not know, but they were obsessed with you from the first day of class at Hogwarts. All of you were new and some strangers to this world and they needed something they could cling to, something that would not leave them and that someone was you.
You met on the train. You and Hermione sat together and talked a little until you went with the other boys, at her insistence, you went along and that was when you met Harry and Ron.
They were ecstatic to discover that you were new too and couldn't wait to be with you at Hogwarts. Once you were selected into a house other than theirs, they would sulk and even get angry. But if you were a Gryffindor like them, there would be no problem to deal with.
They are incredibly possessive of you and they will get upset and irritated when you are with someone other than them, especially if it is someone like Draco Malfoy. You are theirs, you had become theirs since the first conversation on the train and you would continue to be theirs.
Harry is the least possessive, but he is still very jealous of you, even with his own friends. He is very kind and polite, so loyal to his friends and so adored, there is no bad intention in his actions and his thoughts are all about you. He needs to protect you, take care of you because he can't bear to lose you.
He is very calm and rarely loses his temper, Harry just wants to protect you and take care of you. He can't lose anyone else and he can't lose you. Harry is very overprotective and suffocating at times, wanting to know how you are and what you are doing. He's just looking out for you like a good friend would.
Ron is very possessive and suffocating, his insecurity will take him to extremes just to get your affection. He is very lively and optimistic, he is always the one who will lift you up and make you laugh every time you are feeling bad. He cares for you very much and secretly longs to be your favorite.
He is very insecure deep down and fears being abandoned by you, and he can't have that. Ron likes to keep you with him, always keeping you safe and secure, and most importantly of all, just with him. Ron is very spontaneous and lively, desperately wanting to be loved by you.
Hermione is the most balanced, or so she likes to think. She is very intelligent and kind to you, always making sure you are well and happy. Hermione likes to stay by your side in silence, whether it's reading a book or talking about something. She would love to help you with your studies, even if you don't need it, but it would make her very happy.
She is very possessive and manipulative, having seen you first, she should have more right to you. Hermione is fiercely protective of you and jealous, wanting to be the only one to have your attention. She is very careful about you and is always trying to help you, even if you don't need it, but this helps her feel needed. Hermione is a big fan of hers, always rooting for you.
They are extremely protective of you and they are willing to do anything for you, including using forbidden magic. Harry is very suffocating and needs constant reassurance that you are okay, Ron desperately wants your attention and affection and Hermione needs to care and guide you.
You will always be theirs. There's no way to walk away, even if you wanted to. They would never dare to harm you in any way, but if you are resolute in doing things that they vehemently disapprove of, punishment will be meted out. They don't want to scare you, that's the last thing they want, but they have limits.
At any sign of conflict or danger you will be removed. It doesn't matter if you know how to fight or are good with spells, they won't risk your safety and your life. And if you are hurt, they will go into a frenzy of rage and worry and will not stop until they find the culprit and deal with them. No one can hurt you.
Harry would always protect you and be by your side, holding your hand if you needed it. Ron will always cheer you up and say the right things to make you happy and Hermione will always guide you and take care of you in her own way.
Once they become obsessed with you, there is nothing to be done. Not even Dumbledore could help you, not when the obsession, the need to protect you, was already so ingrained in the Trio. You would have to get used to being deeply loved and protected because they aren't going anywhere and neither are you.
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webslingingslasher · 2 years
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Red Light/Green Light
I personally, love a good angst to fluffy story.
Pairing: mcu Peter Parker X Reader
Genre: Angst
Warnings: fights :( and mentions of sex if you squint.
Word count: 7.5K
You weren’t an anxious girlfriend by any means. 
Peter could do whatever he wanted when he wanted.
If he wanted to go get pizza with MJ you would encourage it. If he wanted to help out Inez in intro to darwinism because she was confused you would tell him to go for it. When he got Bailey's number to help her with some minor debate help you saw no issue with it. 
Until now.
Now you were asking yourself if you sent him into the arms of another girl. 
You hated that you noticed this, you were never like this before but Peter suddenly had a lot to talk about with Bailey. When you went out for dinner he started keeping his phone upside down, when you hung out he kept it near him at all times so when a text came through he could intercept it immediately. 
That was red flag number one. 
It didn’t come to a head until recently. Peter went to the bathroom during movie night and his phone went off once, you continued to look at the screen. His phone went off twice, you looked at his phone face down on the arm of the couch. His phone went off three times, you looked towards the phone and the bathroom door. When it went off for the fourth time you couldn’t help it. You never looked through his stuff before but what could Bailey need that it required four double texts? 
Holding your breath and looking towards the door again you lent over and picked up his phone. You sighed when you realized you were correct and looked at the stacked notifications from Bailey. You tapped on them to open them, you needed to put in his passcode. You typed it in but it vibrated, you did it again but it happened once more. You did it slower, pressing each number on their own. His phone locked, one minute before you could try again. 
He changed his passcode. 
Red flag number two. 
You tried to stay normal but the panic of him talking to a girl while changing his passcode didn’t leave much room for interpretation. When he came out of the bathroom he was wiping his hands on his pajama pants. He sat down and kissed your head, “You okay?” His question came when you pulled away from him, you crossed your arms and stared at the screen. 
“Baby?” He called when you ignored him. 
You hummed. If you spoke to him right now it wouldn’t be pretty. 
“You okay? You look like-” He started to make a joke, you cut him off. It wasn’t the time to be cute and funny. 
“Like my boyfriend has been texting a girl so much it made me insecure and when I tried to look at what was so important she needed to text you four times in a row I realized you changed your phone passcode?” You turned to look at him dead in the eye. 
“Do I look like that, Peter?” 
His eyes went wide, his mouth dropped open and his cheeks flushed with color. 
He looked guilty. 
“I, I, I…” He tried to start. 
“You, You, You.” You spat back. 
You stood and grabbed your water bottle and phone. 
“You need a better excuse. I’ll talk to you later.” 
You walked to the door and picked up your backpack. You had a hand on the door and waited. You waited for something, anything. You waited for Peter to speak, to call your name, to call you dumb for insinuatiting what you were, to beg you to stay, to talk about it. You waited for him to web your hand to the door, something. 
You opened the door and waited. You walked over the threshold and waited. You shut the door and waited. You walked down the stairs slowly, you stopped at the lobby entrance for a moment and waited. 
He never came. 
Red flag number three. 
If you were a cartoon character you would have steam coming from your ears. Your head would be red and swelling, it would pop with the pressure of heat and anger. If you could burn holes through someone right now it would be Peter. 
Because, when you tell your boyfriend someone he’s talking to makes you feel insecure and you even snap at him over it and leave his house you would think he would learn something. Not having her stand at his locker, talking back and forth. You watched with seething anger, he was talking about something insignificant, you could always tell when he was ranting on a topic. 
But Bailey, you never really watched her. And boy are you glad you tapped into that conversation. 
Bailey liked Peter. No. She loved Peter. 
You could see it written all over her face, her eyes were lit up at his movements, she was laughing when he wasn’t saying anything funny. She was curling a stand of hair around her finger, twisting her hips back and forth. But Peter, Peter didn't have a notice in the world she was looking at him like that. 
He was just moving things around from his backpack to his locker, he didn’t look at her once but she bored her eyes into his face like he was the world's greatest human. Peter could be deft at times, he was so smart but so dumb. He could recite the first fifty numbers of Pi but had no clue when a girl was into him. 
You slammed your locker and stomped over to him. 
The power that you felt the moment Peter’s gaze finally looked up and smiled at you walking to him. And the moment Bailey’s face dropped. You lent forward for a kiss and smiled when he pushed his head down to meet you, he pulled back but you pulled him back by the waist of his shirt for one more. 
“Looks like someone made up after the fight.” 
Your power was drained. You felt weightless and defeated. 
You looked at Peter and frowned. He almost wanted to cry, in the time you’ve been together he’s never seen a sadder face. 
“You told her?” Your words were built in betrayal. He wouldn’t talk to you but he talked to her? The reason you felt so shitty to begin with? 
“Yeah,” He looked at Bailey for a second, he licked his lips and thought of his next words carefully. 
“Yeah, I just needed a girl’s perspective.” 
You stepped back from him. 
“A girl's perspective?” 
You looked at Bailey, she had a half smirk but dropped it when Peter looked at her again. 
He nodded his head and gulped. Bailey said this would help but it was backfiring badly. He didn’t choose his words carefully enough. 
“You could’ve asked MJ or literally anyone else.” Your voice was monotone. 
“Well Bailey-” He started. He was defending her. Not you. 
Red flag number four. 
You cut him off and spoke loudly. You wanted the hall to hear this. 
“Bailey wants to fuck you. She’s trying to fuck this up.” You pointed between you and him. 
“And you’re letting her.” 
You stepped back ready to turn away to go to class. You looked at Bailey once more, her head was down and her cheeks were the color of a tomato, her whole body was flushed. You called her out in front of everyone. 
You looked back at Peter and pointed at her ashamed stance. 
“I don’t want to give you an ultimatum. I’m not that kind of girlfriend, but when you choose two girls you lose the one.” 
You shook your head at him in disappointment and turned for math class. 
—------------------------------------------------
Peter was always your partner in lab. Even though you didn’t sit together he made a deal with his seat partner that during lab he would work with you instead. He always looked forward to the block class, he got almost 2 hours with you and especially today he needed the time to talk to you, to try and fix this because god, you were pissed. 
But imagine his surprise when the teacher called for lab and you moved to his table but when his table partner went to stand you pushed his shoulder back down. 
“Thanks Tye, but today I’m going to work with Bailey.” 
You looked at Peter and turned to go back to your work station with Bailey. Her face froze in panic when you returned, you smiled at her. 
“Why aren’t you working with Peter?” She laughed to ease the tension. It didn’t work. 
“Because,” You sat next to her and twirled a strand of her hair around your finger. 
“I don't want to work with Peter today. I want to talk about Peter today. I thought you would love that, both of us chatting about the boy we love.” 
Peter gulped. You knew he could hear you, you knew he wouldn’t be able to focus right now. You knew he was in full blown panic mode. You knew he was a nervous pee-er. 
Bailey looked behind her at Peter but you caught her chin to bring her back to your face. 
“He’s nervous. He doesn’t like that I broke the routine.” You looked at her. 
“When he’s nervous he has to pee. It’s cute, on our first date he had to pee like seven times.” 
“He’s about to ask for a bathroom pass.” 
Peter’s hand raised, “Mrs. McClendon, can I go to the bathroom?” 
You raised an eyebrow at her. “Told you.” 
You watched her take your words in silence. She was scared of you at the moment, it was cute. 
“Now, when he gets back, he is going to look at us. He’s going to wipe his hands on his pants and bite his lower lip. Then he’s going to sit down, he’s gonna tap his pencil on the desk and bounce his leg. Then he’s going to get up and look around and sharpen his pencil at the front of the class so he can get a better look at me to make sure I'm not tormenting you too much.” You smiled at her when you finished. 
Bailey wasn’t sure where you were going with this. 
When the class door opened you paused on writing down a chemistry question, the solution was the mixture you would be working on today. 
“Go ahead. Look at him.” You nodded towards the back of the class. Bailey kept her eyes on her paper, you elbowed her. 
“Really, watch him. I’m asking you too.” 
You watched as Bailey looked at you, then turned her head to your boyfriend. You continued to work, even sliding Bailey’s worksheet to you to finish the second half of the equation. Bailey watched Peter at your command, she watched as he wiped his hands and looked around the room chewing on his bottom lip. He looked around until he looked towards their table, his eyes on you. You bent over the table, you looked between the pages and started to mumble. He heard you mutter something along the lines of ‘if Peter was here how would he do this? Is it x squared? No he would say that not every problem would be solved with x squared.’ 
He moved his eyes to see Bailey looking at him, he hadn't even noticed she was staring at him. 
Peter moved to his seat with his head down. He started to tap the end of his pencil on the desk, then moved from biting his lip to shaking his leg. He looked at you once more, ignoring Bailey’s eyes. He looked at his pencil and pressed the lead to his desk watching it snap. He stood and walked to the front of the class to sharpen it again. He looked towards you and watched you struggle with the question, if you weren't mad at him you would have asked for help 3 times over by now. 
He blew a breath through his mouth, he had to at least check on you. He had to make sure you weren’t berating Bailey too bad. He slowly made his way towards you, if the teacher asked he was taking the long way back to his seat. He paused in front of your seat, he was ignoring Bailey right now. Even he wouldn’t be stupid enough to try and talk to her right now. 
“How’s it going over here?” 
You looked up to Peter and smiled, you wrapped an arm around Bailey’s elbow and tugged her into your side. “Great! You know, I think we have some things in common.” You looked at her and watched her slow blink, you pushed your shoulder to hers, “Right?” She just nodded blankly. 
“That’s great.” Peter responded weakly, he moved to stand over your shoulder. 
“Need any help?” 
You straightened your back and felt him involuntarily move in, it was a habit. He was used to standing guard over you. 
“Yes, actually.” You pulled your arm from Bailey’s, and pointed to the sixth task. 
He hummed and moved forward, his hand moving over your shoulder to grab your pencil. He lent his mouth into the back of your head and placed a soft kiss. You knew it was an ‘I love you’ and grabbed his wrist in a silent ‘I love you too.’ 
“You know you can’t solve everything with x squared right?” You lent your head back into his chest and groaned. 
“I know but last lesson it was the answer to everything and it made me feel smart and now I need your help again.” You placed a kiss on his forearm. “Every time I feel caught up it changes.” 
Peter hummed and wrote the equation down for you, most times he helped you solve it. Sometimes you weren't in the mood for a whole lesson and he would just give you the answer. 
“I know, it’s such a drag to help you. I mean, you have to come over and I help you and then we get to watch movies and I get to kiss up on you. It’s actually terrible.” He kissed your forehead and pulled back. 
“You’re good to start now. You wanna come over tonight? We can do homework, or…” He trailed off and moved to your right ear, his whisper to you only, he didn’t want Bailey to hear, your reaction alone would make her shake. 
“Or, we can do something else. May isn’t home, she won’t be back til tomorrow evening. Whole place for us all night.” He mumbled into your ear and you pulled back with a gasp. You held a hand to your chest, “Peter Parker!” He hummed and smiled, he placed a kiss on the top of your head. 
Before he parted he pulled your head back by your chin, your face pulled backwards to look at him upside down. He had both his hands on the side of your face and smiled with his whole heart, he looked into your eyes and spoke honestly. 
“Hey. I love you.” He winked and went back to his seat. 
You started to pull the liquids to make the chemical reaction. 
“How accurate was I?” 
Bailey looked at you, and spoke softly. 
“Spot on.” 
“Know why I told you that?” She shook her head no. 
You smiled at her with pity, you knew she felt it. She looked down in shame, “Know why I asked you to look at him?” She looked at you again, “No.” 
“Because, You will never know him like I do. And he will never love you like he loves me.” 
Bailey was silent for the rest of lab. 
—----------------------------------------------------------
Peter thought he had made it right. 
You talked to him in lab. You lent into his touch and he even gave you the answer off the bat. He even totally ignored Bailey and felt like a dick but he did it so you would know there was nothing to worry about. He loved you, he thought you knew that. He didn’t mean to make you so upset, he really didn’t mean to make you cry. 
In fact, if Peter really thought about it he can’t remember a time he’s made you cry like this. He made you cry because he made you feel beneath him. 
Peter thought when you came over tonight all would be solved. There would be no Bailey discussion, he figured he made his point when he ignored her existence in class today but apparently that wasn’t good enough. 
The way tonight went Peter wasn’t even sure he had a girlfriend anymore. 
Honestly he wasn’t too sure when it started. He wondered if you came over with the intention to fight or it just happened, maybe it was intentional because you didn’t even bring your backpack. You were in pajamas and had mascara under your eyes, he wondered if it was from crying or rubbing at your eyes from a long day. 
“Hi.” He greeted you at the door. 
“Hey.” That set him back some, you both always said the same thing. It was always hi, always. Peter felt like he was slipping, were you both on different pages? 
“Hey?” 
“Hello?” You questioned back. 
“Are we just running through formal greetings?” You moved to the kitchen to inspect his fridge. Peter always had the best snacks and drinks, and they were always different. It was the first thing you always checked, looking for the flavor of the week. 
“Hi. It’s always hi.” Peter felt nervous, his eyes shot to his bathroom door. 
You scanned the fridge and found the new soda flavor in front of you. 
“Oo, orange? May is going crazy. If she gets grape next time I won't leave until I finish all of them.” 
“Did you hear me?” He shifted his weight. 
“Huh? Oh, yes sorry. Hi, Peter.” Your voice was muffled when you poked your head back into the fridge. 
Peter frowned. It threw off his balance and it didn’t feel the same when he asked you to say it. He wanted you to do it naturally, not because he wanted it. 
“Babe, do you have any more cherry Coke? I kinda want one of those instead.” 
“Um, Maybe. I can look, I really have to pee though.” He nearly sprinted to the bathroom. 
When he opened the door he saw you standing right by it, he jumped a little and held his hand to his chest. He looked behind you to the kitchen and started to make his way to look for your cherry coke. 
He stopped when you put out an arm to block him from moving. 
“Am I making you nervous?” 
Peter looked around and looked back at you. 
“A little.” 
You raised your eyebrows. 
��Why?” 
“I think you're mad at me.” 
You paused and thought about it. You were a little upset still but not angry. 
“I don’t think I am. I’m a little upset but I don’t want to yell at you.” 
“You’re not mad?” 
You moved in for a hug and squeezed until he grunted. 
“Not mad.” 
“Then why didn’t you say hi?” 
“Hi.” You kissed where your head fell on his chest. You leaned up and kissed up his neck into his jaw, each kiss he was given an ‘Hi’.
“Okay, okay I get it!” He laughed and pushed you away from him. 
You followed him to the kitchen and watched him squat in front of the fridge, his head ducking to try and find a Coke for you, he knows you stashed one. You just forgot where you put it. He rooted around in the vegetable drawer and pulled the last one out. He held it to you and you gasped and held it to your chest. 
“My hero!” 
Peter stood and stretched, “If only every crime was that easy.” 
You yawned at his stretch and watched him copy. 
“I’m putting on my PJ’s. You pick the movie.” You gave him a ‘you sure?’ look. Peter always chose the movies, he said you had the worst taste in movies and you weren’t able to pick them anymore. When you binge TV he loves your choices, but movies were a failed task. 
“I’m positive. Be right back.” He answered your look, it made your heart swell when he did that. He knew you so well that one look could ask him a question. 
You cracked open the can and took a sip, you offered one to Peter. He took the can and took a mouthful that puffed his cheeks out. He wiggled his eyebrows and you giggled, he turned to his room to change. You meant to walk to the couch to choose a movie, and you did. You even sat your soda and phone down but then the thought of Peter changing was so exciting you bailed and went to watch him. 
Except the excitement was blown the second you walked in. Peter wasn’t changing, he was sitting on his bed with his phone pulled to him with the charger in. He was fully clothed still, he went in with the intention of getting on his phone, not putting on pajamas. 
His fingers were moving fast, he was trying to write as quickly as the thoughts came to him. 
You knew who he was talking to. 
Red flag number 5. 
“What is wrong with you?” Your words were venomous. 
Peter’s head shot up and his eyes went wide. 
“You didn’t think I’d catch you? You’re so smart Peter, why are you being so dumb?” 
Peter’s eyebrows furrowed. 
“What does that mean?” 
“Why are you still talking to her? What is it about her?” You pointed at his phone in his hand. He locked it and placed it face down on the nightstand. Your breath caught, he still didn’t want you to see. 
You took a step back, and stared at his phone. 
“Peter, I think we should break up.” 
Peter stood from the bed. 
“What?” 
“I think we should break up.” 
“What?” He couldn’t conceptualize what you were saying. 
“I don’t like how you’re making me feel. I think I need to step back from this.” 
“Step back? No, no no no, you don't need to step back.” His hands started to shake. He didn’t mean for this to happen, he didn’t know how serious you were at school. You told him you’d dump him. 
“Then why are you still texting her?” You shouted the words, tears gathering. You were about to break down. 
“She’s a friend! You treated her like shit today and she wanted to make it right with me.” Peter sighed and felt tired, he didn’t feel like fighting right now. 
“I treated her like shit? She’s the one that is trying to ruin this!” 
“Really? Because you’re the one fighting with me.” 
The tears came down your face, you started to huff. 
“Why are you letting her do this?” 
Peter ran a hand over his face. He could fight guys all night long but fights with his girlfriend were daunting and exhausting. There was always too much emotion involved. 
“I’m just talking to her. As a friend. I’m your boyfriend, you won.” 
“Then why did you change your passcode!” You screamed the words, your breaths were short.
“And why do you hide your phone from me? And why are you lying about talking to her?” You were on the verge of hyperventilating. 
“I’m not! Morgan got my password and texted everyone in my recents I sucked. I changed it then, I swear! I’m not trying to hide it but you said you were insecure!” Peter tried to defend himself but just put his foot in his mouth.
“I'm insecure? You know I'm insecure about her and you’re still talking to her?” You wiped your tears and sniffled. 
“She just went through a bad break up! She said it was hurting debate so she needed help and she just started talking to me.” 
“She wants a rebound not a friend Peter!” You were hurt and frustrated. 
“Oh my God!” He shouted and pulled at his hair. 
“She knows you exist! She knows we're dating!.” He pointed between you two.  
“And she doesn’t care! You know she likes you, I know you do!” Your voice was rising again. 
“I didn’t know it until today, I swear. But she knows we’re dating and that nothing will happen! She told me today!” 
“And you told her about last night?” You shot at him.
“I needed to talk to someone!” He matched your tone. 
“But not your girlfriend? Really? You’re going to talk to the person that made me leave?” You slapped your hands on your thighs and sniffled. You crossed your arms over your chest and looked out his window as you started to cry again. 
Peter sighed and looked at you, you were so upset you were trembling. He had really fucked this up, he was trying to save the relationship not make it worse. He stepped forward to grab you but you stepped back and looked at him. 
“Why her?” You sniffled and wiped away your tears before more were released. 
“I never get jealous. I let you talk to other girls all the time, I let you hang out with them and I don't get mad or question you. But this one, this one makes me upset. Why can’t you get that? It’s just one.” You spoke softly, your lip trembled with the sob that wanted to escape. You wanted nothing more than your boyfriend to hug you and tell you he would stop talking to her, but he didn’t. 
“I didn’t mean for that to happen, Y/N. I just thought she needed a friend. I just think you’re reading too much into it.” He spoke calmly but his words made you feel dumb, like this was a silly argument. 
Red flag number 6.
“I don’t like you right now Peter. I’ve told you how I feel about her twice now and each time you wave it off. It’s not about her anymore, she's just a girl from school. But you're my boyfriend, and you've made me feel belittled and downplayed and lower than you.” You moved towards the door, but kept facing him. 
“I’m sorry I made you feel that way. It wasn’t my intention.” His response was robotic. 
You guffawed at him, his words were hollow. Did he not understand what was happening here? 
“You know what Peter? It feels like you're cheating on me.” Your words sent swords to his heart. 
“I’m not- I would never.” He moved towards you and grabbed your hands in his. 
“I’m not cheating on you. I wouldn’t do that, okay? I love you.” 
You pulled your hand from his and shook your head. The disappointment was written on your face, even he could see it. 
“If you loved me you wouldn’t treat me this way.” Your words were soft, the decision was made. You weren’t going to make your partner choose you. 
“What does that mean?” His voice was panicked. He didn’t mean for this to happen. 
You stayed silent. He knew what this meant. He was fucking this up, you were the love of his life and he’s about to let you walk out the door. He was letting you dump him. 
“Baby, what does that mean?” You turned your face and held your eyes shut as you cried. This was so hard. 
“Baby?” His voice was pleading. You cried harder at the word, it was yours. He gave you that name and you wore it like a badge. 
“Please.” His voice cracked. 
Peter had never cried in an argument, but this wasn’t an argument anymore. This was a breakup. 
“Don’t do this. Please, don’t do this to me. I’m sorry, please don’t. Please.” He begged you. 
You shook your head, you had to stay strong. You had to prove you were worth more. 
“Baby, please. I’ll let you read the texts. I’ll block her number. Please. Anything.” 
You met his eyes, they were red and glistening. His nose was red, you remembered you told him his nose always went red when he cried. You called him your little rudolph. You just felt sad looking at him. 
“Please don’t leave me.” His voice cracked and tears ran down his cheeks. His breaths were short, once the tears started he couldn’t stop. He brought his wrist to his eye and rubbed at it. He turned his back to you, his quick inhales left you wanting to run to him. You wanted to rub your hand down his back and help him breathe, you wanted to hold him and tell him it was okay but it wasn’t. You didn’t feel secure anymore. 
“Peter,” You looked at his front door, you needed to leave. You couldn’t watch him anymore, it was becoming unbearable. 
“Peter, I should go.” You nearly whispered the words, they were so hard to say. 
“Y/N.” He whimpered. You’ve never heard him like this. He was pleading with you, he needed you like water right now. 
“Peter, I have to go now. I’ll see you later, okay?” You stared at his back. You realized you hadn’t kissed him tonight, you didn’t get a last kiss. 
You silently grabbed your phone and left. He didn’t say a word, part of you wanted him to fight harder for you. The other was glad he didn’t, he let you make this as easy as possible and you knew it killed him inside to do it. 
You loved him. You truly loved him with your whole heart. And if you were cruel you would tell him that, but instead you looked at him one last time. He was hunched over as his shoulders shook, he was holding in his cries for you. Your heart fell to the floor and you left it there as you passed over the threshold. 
Peter couldn’t sleep that night. 
He also couldn’t be Spider-Man that night. He couldn’t do anything that required him to get out of bed, he felt trapped the second you left. His mind was hollow, he was entirely empty inside. He kept replaying the fight in his mind, he was never good at fighting with you. He always said the wrong things and made it worse. That’s why he never tried to fight. 
He felt depleted and at a loss. He felt so fucking stupid too. He doesn’t know why he fought you so hard on it. It was one person that made you feel bad, but Peter, the one who wants to do nothing but love and protect you made it worse. He didn’t take your side, and that’s why you dumped him. He doesn’t blame you, he’d dump himself if he could. 
He told himself ‘That’s it!’ If he goes over to Bailey’s and talks to her he can solve everything with you. He just needed to friend dump her and everything goes back to normal. Satisfied with his plan he jumped out of bed and grabbed his wallet and phone barley locking the front door before speeding down the stairs. 
When he got to Bailey’s the plan was simple: Tell her girlfriend dumped you, tell her you can no longer be friends, get girlfriend back. Easy enough. 
But the second the first part came out she let out an “Thank God!” and sighed. 
“What?” Peter was puzzled. 
“Thank God! She was the absolute worst. I don’t know how you lasted that long with her. She is truly insufferable. She’s always talking about you and going on and on about how special she is to be with you. If I’m being honest she never deserved you.” She paused and took a sip from her straw. 
“You didn’t like her?” Peter was lost. Bailey had told him you were friends and she loved how cute you and him were together. 
Bailey laughed at his question. “God no, I was praying for her downfall.” 
“What? Why?” Peter couldn’t believe this. He was so blindsided, you were right. All she wanted was to get him to herself. And he let it happen. 
“She didn’t deserve you. I just said that, silly.” 
Bailey moved closer to Peter and placed a hand on his shoulder. 
“But, if you’re feeling sad and needy I can make a good rebound. I need one myself, this works out perfectly.” She lent in to kiss him but Peter pushed her back. 
“Are you insane? You said you needed a friend. I was good to you, I believed you when you said you wanted nothing more than that. I fought with my girlfriend over you. I got dumped because of you and you want to have sex?” Peter stood and shook his head at her. 
“You’re not a good person. You rubbed off on me, I was a terrible boyfriend tonight. You don’t deserve me at all, and how you could insinuate that is beyond me. You are a shitty human who did a terrible thing.” He spat the words and turned to leave. 
“Oh yeah? Well you’re just as bad. You fell into my trap just as easy, you knew what I wanted. Even your girlfriend called me out and you still kept talking to me. You must not have loved her that much.” She shrugged her shoulders, this was nothing to her. 
Peter’s blood boiled with her words. You had told him those words just a few hours before and now Bailey was rubbing that in his face. Peter clenched his fists but couldn’t keep calm, he was so pissed at this girl that ruined his relationship he couldn’t keep a level head. He turned to walk to where she had stayed. Peter bent at the waist so his face was in hers directly, he wanted her to know the words he was about to share came from his heart. 
“You are vile. You are scum. You are a terrible shitty human with no remorse or moral standpoints. You prayed on pity and turned it into a fun game. You mean nothing to me, if you were on fire I wouldn’t even spit on you. I think you are the worst person I have ever met and I’ve met a lot of them.” His words were ice cold, he has never spoken such cruel things. 
“Wow. That hurts.” She blinked at him. 
“You know what Bailey? I hope you find love, I really do. And I hope it’s really good. The kind of once in a lifetime kind of love. The love where you know the other person like the back of your hand, there is nothing that they can hide from you, and you can’t hide it from them. I want you to have a love that gives you a reason to wake up in the morning, someone that makes you breathe better just by seeing them. A love where you can’t imagine one possible moment without them because no matter what it is they just make it so much better. I hope that for you, I really do.” Peter spoke sincerely and went to leave. 
“Do you really?” Her voice was soft. She always wanted a love like that, she dreamed of it. 
“Of course.” He had his hand on her doorknob and turned his head over his shoulder. 
“Then I hope you fuck it all up and lose it all.” He opened the door and slammed it behind him. 
Peter was banging on your window. 
You tried to ignore the taps at first, but then they were knocks. Then they were thumps of his palm against the window. You rolled your eyes, there was a reason it was shut and locked. You wanted to keep him out. 
His restlessness was unsettled, his bangs became faster until you huffed and threw the covers off you and ripping the curtains open. You stared at Peter on the other side of the glass, and waited. You weren’t going to say a word until he did. 
Peter looked at you wide eyed with an open mouth. He didn’t expect you to actually come to the window, he assumed he would have to break in. 
“What?” You barked the words at him. You didn’t want to break the silence first but he was taking too long. Peter cupped his hand around his ear and made a confused face. “What?” You repeated. He narrowed his eyes and shrugged his shoulders and pointed to his ears. 
“I know you can hear me Peter!” 
He stared blankly at you. 
You groaned and unlocked the window and threw it up. 
“Hi!” He smiled at you. 
“Hi.” 
His heart clenched. You still did it. Involuntary or not it counted. 
“What do you want?” You were quick to the point. 
“Oi! What happened to exes being friends?” 
You frowned at him. It’s too soon for him to be making these jokes, it hasn’t even been twelve hours. 
“Not funny yet?” He read your mind. 
“No.” 
“That’s okay. I’m still into my ex.” He shrugged and watched you roll your eyes. He didn’t miss the hint of a smile on your lips, he still has you. 
“Why are you here?” 
“I went to Bailey’s house.” He started but you were finished at that sentence. 
You stared at him and pushed the window down, he caught it at the bottom and pushed it up. You huffed and pushed it down, he kept his hand in place the window not budging against his grasp. You stood on your tiptoes and put all your weight into pushing it down but it stayed complacent. 
“This isn’t one you’ll win baby.” His tone was cocky, he liked seeing you flustered. 
“You can’t call me that I’m not your girlfriend.” You sat down at the window so you were equal height with Peter on the other side. You grabbed at this hand and tried to uncurl his fingers on the wood. 
“Oh you like rubbing that in.” He watched as you tried to get him to release his grip but you were failing. 
“Peter let go!” You reached your arm out to pull at his wrist. 
“No. I love you.” 
You pulled away and tucked your knees to your chest. You put your head down and started to cry, your shoulders shaking with each sob. Peter pulled the window open and let himself in, he sat down with you and wrapped his body around yours. You cried harder at his warmth, you turned around to press yourself into his neck. 
“Why’d you let me do that?” Your words were muffled in his shirt. 
“Because you had to.” He kissed your forehead and rested his head on yours. 
Green flag number 1.
“Can I continue?” You nodded your head against his. 
“I went to Bailey’s house. See, I had this great idea that if I told her what happened she would be empathetic and set it straight and then we would never talk again and me and you would get back together and the worst five hours of my life would be over. But something worse happened.” 
You sniffled and pushed him back with your hands on his chest. You looked over his face and neck, if he was here to tell you he hooked up with her you would lose it. 
“What happened Peter?” 
He sighed and looked down. “You were right.” 
“Huh?” 
“I know right? Here I go with my loud mouth saying you don’t understand, but it was me babe. I didn’t understand. You were right, you were so right.” 
“About what?” 
Peter leaned back on his arms, “She wanted to bone me babe. Like right out the gate, I went over there heart in my hands. No light or soul left in me, just grasping at straws. I tell her you just dumped me with a capital D, no remorse, just a straight kill shot.” He smiled when he made you laugh, you wiped at your nose with a sleeve of his hoodie. 
“And she goes, and I quote, “Thank, God.” and I obviously, in pure shock. Just double knifed right now, punches from every side. I say, “what?” because there is no way I heard that right and she says it again. Then she said she hated you, which she said you were friends all along, and that you didn’t deserve me. Then said I needed a rebound and so did she and this was actually a good thing if I think about it. Then she tried to actually bone me.” Peter concluded his rant. 
“What did you do?” You looked at him and hoped he did the right thing. 
“I barked at her.” 
You laughed and leaned forward to hit his arm, “No you didn’t.” 
“No I didn’t. I said some really, really mean things. Like, I defended your honor so hard she’s gonna form a crush on you instead.” He smiled at you, he wanted to ask if everything was okay now. 
Green flag number 2. 
“How mean?” You pushed him, you’ve never seen Peter mean. He must have wished her coffee was always too sweet or too bitter, never just right. That's the most vicious you could imagine Peter getting. 
He let out a puff of air. 
“Uh, something about being vile and being a shitty human and hoping she has the once in a lifetime kind of love you always dream of and she fucks it all up. Or something like that, I dunno it’s kinda blur.” He shrugged his shoulders and looked towards you. 
Green flag number 3.
You pulled your head back in impressment. 
“Wow. I’m lucky you spared my feelings when I totally crushed you after I slammed dumped you.” 
“Good one, babe.” He stuck his hand out for a fist bump. 
“You were totally heartless there. I mean I was crying like a baby and you stone cold just left. Now I know who the bad cop is gonna be when we have kids.” He poked fun and you turned your head at him. 
“We’re not getting back together, Peter.” 
Your words were ice. Peter felt frozen, he was sinking on the titanic. He figured it was okay now, you were talking like you were okay. Peter had a deer in headlights look and cleared his throat. 
“Um, yeah. Of course, I really fucked that one up. I just wanted you to have closure.” He gave you a tight lipped smile and went to stand so he could make his exit. 
You reached for his wrist and pulled him to keep him sitting. 
“No hard feelings?” You reached your hand out for a handshake. He started at your hand and shook it, he nodded at your words. “No hard feelings.” 
Green flag number 4. 
You let out a breath of fresh air. 
“Oh good. Don’t get me wrong, you’re totally hot and smart and totally my type. I mean you make me laugh even when I’m supposed to be mad at you and you always know how to fix our problems but I mean, I’m still hung up on my ex. It wouldn’t be fair to jump into a new relationship right now.” 
Peter nodded with your words. 
“I understand. I’m still not over my ex, she reminds me a lot like you. Beautiful, witty and just a dream stomper. I still love her actually.” He sighed and reminisced. 
“I still love mine too.” You looked at him and felt like giving him the best kiss of your life. 
“You know if we're both hurting from our ex’s we could just be each other's rebound. It works out perfect.” 
You leaned over and met him in a kiss. He made a surprised sound not expecting your move but grabbed your waist and pulled you into him. He opened his mouth into yours and deepened the kiss, he thought he wasn’t going to be able to do this for a while. Not ever again though, he always knew he would win you back. You moved to straddle his waist, with your arms locked behind his head you pulled back from him and pecked his mouth. 
“I’m sorry I broke up with you.” You whispered into his mouth.
“It’s okay. I deserved it.” He matched your tone. 
Green flag number 5. 
“It was the worst five hours of my life. Let's never do that again.” 
Peter lent in to kiss you again, and again. 
“Deal.” 
“No really, it was traumatic.” 
Peter was kissing down your neck, he hummed and you pulled away with a shout. 
“Was it? I think I was more traumatized. The love of my life broke up with me like it was nothing. I was a mess.” 
“No, actually I had it worse. I mean you were begging me not to do it, I was the heartless monster that had to keep going and actually do it.” 
“I think you gave me trust issues.” He moved some hair behind your ear and you raised your eyebrows at him. 
“Oh I gave you trust issues?” Making sure to enunciate on the you. 
“Mhm. I see the error of my words.” 
You pressed your forehead against his and stilled. It was okay. Everything was okay. 
“Hey, Petey?” 
“Yes, baby?” 
“I love you.” 
“I love you too.” 
Green flag number 6.
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starry-bi-sky · 2 months
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I'm in A Mood™ (stressed) so im going back to my roots of melting two character together into one person. So bruce wayne!danny fenton. Danny Fenton who, for eight years, grew up in a beautiful gothic manor with his mom and dad under the name "Bruce Wayne". Playing piano with his mother, running around the manor with his father.
Then when he's eight it's ripped away from him. There's blood on his hands and pearls pooling at his feet, and both his parents are dead in front of him.
And he gets shipped off to distant relatives "the Fentons" shortly after, Alfred close on his heels because someone needs to take care of him, someone that knows him. Bruce goes to the Fentons for the safety of anonymity. Gotham's press wants to sink its teeth into him.
Danny misses his city even if it took everything from him. There are shadows in his eyes and he's pale as a sheet even beside his distant cousins, and they change his name to "Danny Fenton' because nobody should know that their newest child was illustrious orphan Bruce Wayne.
They call him Bruce behind closed doors. Danny prefers it that way, he clings onto the name -- the one his parents gave him -- like a lifeline. He makes friends with Sam and Tucker. Tucker takes one look at the willowy, morbid little boy standing in the corner like a shade, ghosts in his eyes, and drags him out into the sunlight, and takes him over to Sam.
When Danny is twelve, he's still not over it -- and he's a little obsessed with the Fentons' research, with the morbid. He has books upon books on death, murder, detective work. Anything he can get his hands on. And stars. He loves stars.
Alfred owns the apartment next to them and comes over regularly. Danny clings to him.
When Danny is twelve, he's still quiet, meek, a shy little thing prone to being bullied. Freaky little Fenton with the night in his eyes and too-cold skin even before he put one foot in the grave. in a sleepover in his room with Sam and Tucker, he tells them the truth. They're his friends, he trusts them.
"My name is Bruce." he murmurs, voice quiet as the breeze, always quiet. he's staring at his star-covered sheets.
"Like Bruce Wayne?" Tucker asks, a joking tone in his voice.
Danny smiles a little, lamb-like with insecurity. "I am Bruce Wayne." And he takes them down to the lab, disrupting Maddie and Jack, to prove it. Sam tells them of her own wealth then shortly after. They start calling Danny "Bruce" in private too -- its trust. Thats what it is. It's trust.
Sam goes to media functions and comes back with aching feet and complaints on her tongue -- and Danny soaks it up all like a sponge, splayed across a beanbag chair with Tucker in her room. He's not envious of her, he used to go to events with his parents and they kept him safe from the ugly of Gotham's Elite. For the most part. He's had comments made at him, he doesn't miss them.
Alfred returns to the manor semi-regularly, Danny goes with him. he wanders the hallways and helps Alfred clean, the last thing either of them want is for their home to fall into disrepair. He brings Jazz with him next time, then Tucker, then Sam. They all help him clean, and he shows them his room. The one across from his parents', it feels strange.
When Danny dies when he's fourteen, the first adult he tells is Alfred. He and Jazz go over to his house more often than they stay in the Fentonworks building. At least at Alfred's, the food doesn't come to life. Alfred sits at the kitchen table and weeps when Danny tells him, Jazz is upstairs, and its just the two of them.
Danny's ghost form wears pearls around his wrist and the gloves look stained with some kind of black substance. He looks like a child who died in a lab accident, but he also looks like a child who has shadows dripping off his shoulders, curling at his feet, hanging from his eyes.
because amorphous blob batman has my heart always and danny/bruce will not escape it even in death even if that IS the only reason im giving him Mild BatBlob Vibes...so far
when they go to the manor, alfred helps danny make a pile of stones between Martha and Thomas' graves, nobody but the two of them (and sam and tucker) will know what it means. (not even bruce's children later down the line, not for a long, long time)
danny dives into ghost fighting on shaky feet and not half as witty as he once was in one world. he's skittish, skittering between blasts from shadow to shadow and clumsily making his way through each battle. but helping people lights a fire in him. he still has shadows dripping off his feet but there's a purpose in his eyes.
and god help him, he's going to help people.
#dpxdc#dp x dc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc crossover#dpdc#dpxdc prompt#this is just me torturing danny for a little bit because im stressed and i cried for an hour while i was driving so im taking it out on B#thanks for being my little stress ball danny#aha my old middle school habit of frankensteining two characters together is resurfacing again :) yall should've seen my wattpad drafts#in middle school. i had 50 of them and most of them were me combining two characters together to make one person and putting them in one au#my most memorable being skydoesminecraft and harry potter. THAT was a fun worldbuilding experience#do i think that growing up with the fentons would fix bruce/danny completely?? hurm. no. dont kid yallselves jazz is not a licensed#therapist not even at like. nine when she meets danny. she's not helping him through his trauma in the slightest. she's nagging.#she's his sister or sister-like figure before she's his therapist. would he be#*entirely* like canon bruce tho?? no. dannybruce is a mix of the both of them. but this is still the first post of the au and is more so#just me doing the equivalent of popping a stress ball so nothing is smoothed over. mostly im just trying to keep bruce's trauma prominent i#danny's character because he IS Bruce. i dont want him to just be 'danny with bruce's backstory but without any of the ugly bits'.#danny and bruce is used interchangeably because they're the same person but sorry if his personality feels imbalanced i came up with this o#the spot. was going to type more but the stress has left me. for now. watch ur back danny 👀
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applcrumbl · 10 months
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Argumentative?
Pairings: Rafe Cameron X F! Reader Warnings: Soft Rafe (It’s a warning of it’s own), angst, alcohol mention Author’s Note: I’m so on the fence with Rafe cos like he’s obvs a horrible character, but like he’s such a good character. Like he’s sexy and he’s well-written, I love him. But he’s an arsehole, I hate him. yknow
Summary:  You and Rafe never argue, ever. 
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Despite Rafe’s hard demeanour, and tendency to need the final word at all times, very seldom did you argue in your relationship. For someone living with so much hatred, it was important to Rafe that you never experienced it. 
Typically, you got on well. Similar in interest but completely different in manner. He was the talker, you were the listener. You washed the dishes, he put them away. You simply never fought.
Bickering was different, you’d laugh and joke around, poke holes at a bad haircut and so forth. And naturally, with Rafe, jealousy was a large part of your day-to-day life together, but the anger that came was never directed at you. He knew how un-wandering your eyes were, and he knew how beautiful other people found you. Yes, he’d lose his temper at the Pogue looking you up and down, but no, he would never blame you for it. He knew that you were his.
On the other hand, you were never entirely sure that he was yours. He’d never once cheated, or given you any reason to think that he was, but you were aware of his past when your first met. Aware of the elusive Rafe Cameron who was never tied down for long. Self-consciousness crept in quickly after you’d hit the one-year mark.
A trip to the mainland that you’d chosen to accompany your boyfriend on. Simply a few drinks with some potential clients, Rafe was expected to go following his new position in the family company. The insecurity began when he hadn’t initially invited you, it stayed as you realised how many beautiful women were there - each with eyes on Cameron Development’s newest CEO.
You tried to loop your arm in his, an effort to have the eyes turn away, but Rafe didn’t notice. His hands still tightly in his trouser pocket, networking away. Neither he, or the leggy brunette in front of him noticed as you slipped from his side and found the open bar.
10 Minutes and 3 miscellaneous drinks later, he found you. Tucked away and sipping your straw.
“Hey,” he soothes, “Where ya been?”
You look to him, “Here.” you state, plain and simple.
“Obviously,” He tries to jest, “Why did you leave me?”
“I came for a drink.”
“Why didn’t you come back?”
“Why are you suddenly so interested?”
I must reinstate that you never fought, so anything more than some hushed words, or a light squabble, seriously neared separate bed territory. What might have been a heated conversation to some couples, was a raging bullfight to the pair of you. Rafe had so much of that for the rest of his life. He was adamant that it would never happen with you.
“Let's go outside.” He states; much less a suggestion than a direction, and leads you out a back door to one of Charleston’s quiet alleyways. 
“Talk,” he ordered, hands on each of your arms.
You shrug, “I’ve nothing to say.”
Rafe kisses his teeth, looking away, “Have I done something?” He asks, a hint of insecurity in his tone.
You can’t quite answer, because truthfully he hadn’t. He’d never given you a reason to feel insecure, you just did anyway. Something about knowing that you were never invited, knowing that if you hadn’t decided you’d come along, he’d probably be off with some other woman.
“I shouldn’t have come,” you finally admit, “I should have just let you get on with it like you normally do. Stayed blissfully unaware.”
His eyes squint, “Y/N, I want you here. I have nothing to hide from you?’
You chuckle, it’s hearty but without an ounce of humour to it. “What? Do you think I’m blind or something?” Rafe stands unmoving, taking in your words, “I see you in there, they eat you up, and you feed into it!”
“How do I feed into it?” He’s strangely calm, anger in his tone, but only a whisper of it.
“You flirt! You smile, you complement, you completely ignore that I’m right next to you. Rafe, you don’t even introduce me as your girlfriend-”
“Because I thought it was obvious!”
“It’s not!” You shout, “It’s fucking not.”
The alleyway is quiet again. Muffled voices and music come from inside the door, and a handful of cars driving down the main road a few meters away provide the only light. You see Rafe’s face for a second as they pass by.
“How can other people see that I’m your girlfriend, when I don’t even feel like I am.”
His hands drop to his sides as he inhales shakily. Not a word is spoken, but tears fall from your eyes. Rafe watches them glide, mouth slightly agape. He stands a second more before pulling you into his embrace.
You’d try to fight it, but that’s the last thing you want to do right now. 
“I’m sorry,” Rafe whispers, lips grazing your forehead, “I’m so sorry, Baby”
You want to assure him it’s fine, but it’s not. You were dancing on the grounds of breakup territory, and neither of you wanted that.
“I notice things, Rafe. And you forget that I know your history, I knew who you were before.”
“I’m not him anymore.”
You hesitate your answer, “I know that-”
“Do you?” He asks, pulling away to see your face. His eyes are growing red, obviously fighting back the urge to cry with you, “Because it sounds like you don’t. And I’m not that guy any more, I want you.”
“Do you?”
His words used back on him. Normally he’d continue this argument, fight his way through to victory. Finish the battle with the last word, and full disregard to the other person’s feelings. But, he couldn’t this time. He could never fight with you.
“More than anything.”
Tears fall from his eyes, water staining the silk shirt he wears under his blazer. He doesn’t care, eyes boring into yours, awaiting your words.
"Okay."
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taiyouhimerich · 1 month
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wow yeah im stealing my own cai bot is this what they call creativity????
“Smells like sweet home”
Husband! Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader
tags and warns: aaaw cmon just a bit of soft thing, it colds even be safe for work! but with just a little bit of mention of sexual interaction, so still 18+ mdni!!!
psss gonna make part 2 w/ aomething morrrrre
Words count: 1,4k (and yes thats alot for me)
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Leon never needed much from life: he dreamed about what all American men probably dream about. You know, a white picket fence, a housewife always waiting for him at home and ready to welcome him after a hard day's work, and a couple or triple adorable children who would run up to him, hugging him, missing their daddy. And for a long time it seemed to him that all these dreams were shattered the moment he ran over the barricades on the road leading to Raccoon City.
But that belief was shattered the moment he saw you. Beautiful, graceful, soft, just perfect for him, how could he not notice you among all the crowds of these gloomy, rude, cruel people? He felt like an insecure teenager again, noticing the most beautiful girl in school, a feeling he hadn't had in a couple dozen years. Courting you was ordinary, romantic, but nothing fancy, but it still won your heart. Or maybe it was the way a grown-up man blushed and sweated like a puberty boy when he saw you, you don't know for sure, but it was definitely something that made you start dating him.
If you ask him now, he would say that he does not even remember what happened until the moment when he knelt in front of you, taking out a modest but beautiful ring in a velvet box from his pocket. Standing in front of you at that moment, he was thinking that he didn't know what he would do if you said no, and you could swear that you saw tears in his eyes when you agreed. Your fiance looked like a tiny puppy, wagging his tail and running around his owner with joyful barking while you put on your wedding dress, asking him to stay close and help with the corset at the same time. You were amazing: the beautiful white fabric flowed over your body as if you were doused with milk, and several layers of tulle under your skirt made your figure even more magnificent. He hugged you tightly after he was done with the lacing, while you tried to chase him away, laughing kindly, saying something about you needing your personal time, when she leaned into your ear, tucking a strand of your hair before whispering.
“Then let it be as you say, I'll give you your so-called personal time, because from the first second of our honeymoon, I won't let you go for even a moment....”
And he didn't lie, he never lied to you, because no matter how much you both wanted to go to an Indonesian beach or watch flamingos, you couldn't get out of bed. Oh, how you fucked, all the food you ate was from room service, you were on the bed, on the floor, in the luxurious bathroom, even on the balcony at night, you did everything you could think of while Leon pressed against you, kissing under your ear, pleading, but deep voice purring.
“Just one more time, Mrs. Kennedy.”
Mrs. Kennedy did something incredible to you, and you succumbed over and over and over again, allowing him to enjoy you, his beloved woman, his wife... and considering how furiously he thrusted into you, the mother of his children at the same time. So neither of you were surprised when, a month after your honeymoon, your period didn't come, and the next day you saw two stripes on the test. Even twice, so that the results are for sure. You heard the joke that two positive tests mean two children, it was from Leon when he joked about it, and you slapped him on the back of the head, making him laugh, but when doctor told you at the first ultrasound that you were going to have twins, you were both shocked. In a pleasant shock, to be precise.
And this was the moment that he loved to remember every time he returned home to his dear wife, unlocking the front door with keys so quietly that his newborns would not wake up. Most of all, he wanted to throw his bag on the floor right in the hallway, along with his unbuttoned uniform, and fall on the bed, without a shower and dinner, although dinner at three in the morning is a terrible idea. When he lets out a tired sigh, hearing his vest release his chest, falling to the floor with a soft booming thud, he hears the rustling and creaking of your bedroom door, immediately tensing up and turning his head in that direction. A smile paints his face with happiness when you come out to him, in a pink fur robe and slippers in the form of pugs, coming closer, and slightly timidly spreading your arms in an invitation to a hug.
“My pretty one....” He mumbles, taking a step towards you and wrapping you in a tight hug, letting you bury your forehead in his shoulder.
“I missed you, Lee....”You gently stroke his back, running your palms over his shoulder blades when you feel his kiss in your hair. You can't help but giggle softly, kissing him somewhere on the jaw, feeling his unshaven stubble with your lips. It makes you laugh again and pull away, putting your hands on his chest with a smile. “Unscathed?”
“Kinda. A little injuries here and there, but nothing I couldn't handle, you know me.”He laughs hollowly, placing his palms on your forearms to pull you closer and kiss your cheek. “I missed you too... and our little ones.... How are they?”
“Scott is just perfect, and Melissa has become more moody in recent days.” You respond by sighing softly while his kisses make you giggle. “She is not so willing to being fed with breast, I have to use a pumper.... God, there's too much of you in this girl, you know.”
Leon laughs, quietly, so that God forbid not to wake up your children. “I don't think I've ever been able to give up on your breasts.”His lips continue to shower kisses on your face as he gradually descends to your neck, pushing back the collar of your robe. Huh. He even remembers the times when you met him in a red silk nightgown and black lace underwear… Well, after the wedding and pregnancy, your wardrobe has changed significantly. But that doesn't mean it's bad for him. Come on, he likes how homely you are!
His lips find your collarbone when he runs his tongue over your skin, sucking greedily, under your quiet but ringing giggle, and it makes you let out a soft moan. Your hands find his head with a familiar movement, intertwining with his hair as you mumble. “I don't think I've ever offered you...”
“Do you want to do it now?”His cheeky grin is audible even when you can't see his face, while he buries his head in the neckline of your robe, nuzzling into the cleavage between your breasts. He knows for sure that you will slap him on the back of the head, confusedly mumbling something about how it's something perverted, but he can't help but inhale, closing his eyes and soaking up the smell of your boobs. Those round soft tits, all big and swollen because of the milk, smelling of sweet, warm this very milk.... His children, his precious daughter and son, smell the same scent because your milk is what is always around them, so this smell is so cozy, homely, relaxing him and making him forget about all those horrors he looked at during his missions....
That's where he ends up, but not because you push him away, no. He stays between your boobs, continuing to take this bath of your milky scent until he feels... ashamed. When this process heals his mental wounds enough for him to think more sensibly, he realizes how embarrassing this thing really is. That he's literally obsessed with your boobs and sniffing them like some kind of pervert. He feels the warmth of your chest against his face for a little longer, and then pulls away, straightening up and straightening your robe. He can't help but squeeze them lightly in his palms, and before you can say anything, he looks away, clears his throat, and pats you on the shoulder, walking around you and muttering.
“Gonna check on ours.”
Later, you will find this tough, exhausted man sitting on the floor between the cradles of your children, sticking only his fingers between the partitions to hold each of the babies by the palms. A soft smile spreads across your tired face. What a cutie. All of them.
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definitely p2 guys i just feel ashamed to make it as a one pretty big post, so I splitted that…..
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slutmegeto · 3 days
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selcouth.
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requested! plz, write a satosugo x reader fictional where y/n feeling left-out and insecure in the relationship ( full of angst and yandere vibes). requested by! @lolitamermaid123
tw. stockholm syndrome, yandere, dubcon, noncon (to be safe), dumbification, orgasm control, orgasm denial, sex toy, threesome, geto and gojo manipulate you into liking them, use of pretty/angel/baby, mention of starving, implied kidnapping. daddy kink, dom!geto, switch!gojo, sub!reader mdni!
pairing: satosugu x f!reader
it had all started a week ago.
geto and gojo had went from dominating your time, never letting you have a moment of peace and constantly, consistently touching you, kissing you, being with you to acting like you didn't exist.
that had gone on for a few weeks. maybe a month, maybe two, the concept of time had been stripped from you the second the two of them had taken you. it was hard to tell what day it was, or even what time it was, when you were stripped from leaving their apartment. you weren't allowed to go outside, not without them and even then that happened rarily.
and when they left (which was rare; usually at least one of them was home), they usually kept you locked to their bedroom. they professed it was because you couldn't be trusted yet, that you needed to earn that trust before you could have free roam of the house and you'd given that fight up a week or two ago when it led to inevitably nothing but pain.
if geto was out, gojo wanted to cuddle. he'd wrap his arms around your waist and pull you flush against his chest and keep you close. if you had to pee, he'd come with you. if you were hungry, you had to wait. he'd surround you and wouldn't back off until geto came back and then he'd bound up to him and then the both of them would surround you.
geto would be most of the same. he was a little more freeing. he'd let you at least pee on your own and he'd make you something to eat if you were hungry. but he liked to keep you close, sometimes he'd put on a movie and have you sit on his lap. he especially liked when you played with his hair and you'd learned that when you did favours to them, they were nicer to you.
it was worst when they both were home. always two pairs of hands surrounding you, holding you. they never got sexual unless they were both home, some sort of rule they'd promised to each other. but they were insatiable the second they both had you. you rarely had a moment of peace, their mouths on you, their hands carressing you; both of them fucking you.
it was exhausting and overwhelming.
so why were you so upset they weren't doing that anymore?
you shouldn't be. you should be happy, relieved... maybe they were getting sick of you; maybe all you'd been, depsite their words, was a toy for them to test out some of their kicks on and that was it. maybe... maybe they'd even let you go soon.
the hope of that lingered, and, yet... your heart would burn with hurt when they started leaving you alone more. now, gojo wouldn't stay if geto left or vice versa. they'd leave together... just leave you. they wouldn't say bye, wouldn't smile at you or kiss you or say they'd be back soon.
they'd just leave...
for hours. you were still trapped in the bedroom, still locked away. sometimes, they'd leave you some food but most of the time they didn't... as if they'd forgotten. you'd be starving when they'd come bakc hours later and then, geto would prepare something half-assed that barely fed you.
yet, the worst was when they were home. you'd be allowed to roam the house, go where you want (except outside). but, they still ignored you.
they'd sit on the couch together, cuddling, lips pressed against each others. all while you stood there, watching. they'd make no room for you, taking up the whole couch, and leaving you to sit on the single seat by yourself. you'd try to focus on whatever they'd put on the tv, but your eyes would always inevitably drift towards them and watch as they blatantly ignored you.
it wasn't just that. you had no idea what they did when they left, or why they were gone so long but you knew what they were up to when they did it front of you. they'd wander to the bedroom and you'd follow behind, trailing like a lost puppy, only to see them taking each other's clothes off, kissing and eventually fucking each other.
without you.
it should make you happy. this is what you'd been wishing for since they'd taken you. to leave you alone, to stop forcing themselves on you...
but, it didn't make you happy. not at all. it hurt... burned in your chest and made your heart ache. it twisted you with something uncomfortable, chest tight and loneliness flooding through your veins as they ignored you.
you weren't allowed to leave, you weren't allowed to see anyone else but they people you'd had to depend on for human interaction, gave you nothing. you... you had no one.and didn
they'd told you they loved you. when they'd taken you, they said it was for you... because they loved you so much and just wanted the best for you. when they'd forced themselves on you that first night, you realized, they'd still been doting. whispering praises to your cries, tell you how good you were being and drowning you in pleasure.
when gojo cuddled, he told you it was because he loved the feeling of you against him. when geto made you brush through his hair, he said it was because he loved when you touched him.
when they kept you locked in the bedroom, they said it was for your own safety. they didn't want you going outside because they didn't want you to get hurt or taken or...
those word, those praises and those bullshit lies suddenly didn't fill you with anger. and didn't feel like bullshit anymore. it didn't make you want to claw out their eyes or hurt them for hurting you... instead, it filled you with a warmth you longed to feel again.
the warmth felt wrong. you knew it. but you couldn't make it go away.
with everyday that passed, the ache grew worst. it festered, deep in your chest, made it hard to function or think straight. it hurt so much that by the end of the week, you were at your wits end. you were hungry, starving... neglected and ashamed.
i'm not good enough.
they don't love me anymore...
maybe they think im not good enough for them.
maybe they think im not worth it for anyone.
these words burn in your mind, ripping any peace of mind you tried to obtain. you couldn't think straight, couldn't do anything...
it's inevitable. still, you lose it the saturday night, marking a entire week.
they'd both been home all day, but still, they continued to ignore you. wrapped up in each other's arms all day, you'd watched, neglected and dejected, in the background as they continued to act as if you aren't there. their eyes wouldn't even meet your own, solely focused on each other.
it twisted something nasty in you, brought you to a point you couldn't control it anymore.
watching them on the bed, stuck at the door, as geto pulled gojo's shirt off, slow, dragging his mouth up his toned chest. gojo's hands threaded through geto's hair, lips pressed against each others, the sounds of their mouths and breaths taunting you.
a sob wretched from your throat before you could stop it, loud and pathetic, gaining the attention of the two men as the tears poured down your face profusely. you stood there, sobbing and sniffling, looking like a wounded child, as both geto and gojo glanced at you, before sending each other knowing looks.
"what's wrong, baby?" gojo asks, pushing himself off the bed, shirtless and slacks hanging low on his hips as he crosses the distance over to you. geto trails closely behind him, and the two stand in front of you, towering over you, concerned eyes waiting for an answer.
you just continue to sob.
"y/n?" geto pressed, voice still soft but a little sharper.
he wants an answer.
"do you not love me anymore?"
the word come tumbling from your lips, choked in your own tears as your hands come to your cheeks.
"what?" gojo asks, incredulously, as if he can't believe your words. "why would you think that?"
"be—because!" you cry out, turning to glance at the both of them through blurred tears. "you—you... both ignore me! you don't cuddle with me anymore or make food for me and you guys leave.... for—for hours... and—and..." you can't finish your words, the image of them making love to each other while you watched too painful.
a hand falls on the back of your head, another pulling your hands away from your face. gojo and geto crouch down, to meet your eyes properly, and gojo's brushing your tears away from your face as geto brushes your hair back, tucking it behind your ear.
"we're sorry, baby," geto coos at you, fingers brushing against your cheek. you miss the look he sends gojo or the smile gojo sends back. "we thought that's what you wanted?"
your wide eyes fall on him.
"you were always crying and pushing us away, angel," gojo explains, shaking his head at you. "so we were trying to give you space."
that's right... you were always pushing them away. you always cursed at them, called them the wost things, said you hated them... you had done all of that.
but... why?
"i—i..." your mind scrambles for an answer, but you can't find it.
"is that not what you want?" geto asks softly, head titling in wonder.
"i..."
is that what you want?
"no," you whisper, the decision coming to you when you couldn't imagine saying otherwise, "no i don't want that. i want you two to... to love me again."
"oh baby," geto tsks, "we don't hate you... do we, satoru?"
"of course not," gojo says without hesitance, pressing a kiss to your cheek. your eyes flutter shut at the touch, body tingling at finally having their attention on you again. "we love you so much. but we were hurt by your actions."
your heart spikes. "i'm sorry!" you cry out, turning to him with wide, scared eyes as the tears well again. "i'm so sorry! i don't know why i did that! i... i want you both..."
they both smile, impressed.
"it's okay, pretty girl," gojo assures, nodding down at you. "we forgive you."
"of course we do," geto smiles, shifting on his feet. "we're sorry we hurt your feelings too. made you feel unloved... we should make that up to you, shouldn't we?"
eyes flooding with hope, you meet his eyes before turning to gojo. they're both smiling, hands reaching for you.
"o—okay," you whisper, nodding, "i'd... i'd like that."
sending each other a look, geto and gojo are quick to act on their words. they grab you, guiding you towards the bed, and with ease, strip of your clothes. they leave you with your bra, a pretty pink lace one they'd bought for you; you'd been trying to wear the gifts they bought you to hopefully get their attention.
if the smirks on their faces and pleased expression are anything to go by, it seems it worked.
geto behind you, holding you around the waist, pressed into his lap and gojo sat in front of you, both of their eyes never leaving your basically bare figure, gojo chuckles.
"we should have her like this all time," gojo mumbles, not talking to you but geto. "she doesn't need to clothes."
"i agree," geto hums out, his much larger hands pressed against your tummy. "we could buy her those pretty camisoles... have her dressed up for us everyday." then, with a pause, his head falls on your shoulder. "would you like that, y/n?"
your cheeks burn at their words and their unwavering gaze, but still, you nod smally. "if... if you guys would like that."
your small little whispers goes straight to their dicks.
hands dragging across your bare thighs, gojo lets out a growl; "that's a good girl."
"our good girl."
"hmm," gojo nods to geto. "yes."
gojo then shifts, leaning over the edge of the bed as you watch on in curiosity. he doesn't take him long and when he sits back up with a vibrator in his hands, your body shifts in geto's grasp, twitching as your anticipation builds.
"we're gonna play a little game," geto explains, watching your reactions with a pleased grin. "gojo's going to make you feel good with that vibrator, but there's a twist."
"what... what is it?" you ask hesitantly, eyes unable to leave gojo as he shuffles, moving so he's pushed back, vibrator held tauntingly in front of your pussy.
"you can't cum until i tell you you can."
that breaks you from your stupor. "but... but i don't know if i can hold back."
"you can," geto dismisses, voice commanding. "you can and you will."
"it feels much better when you hold back, baby." gojo explains, "suguru's done it for me before. you'll feel really nice."
your body tenses with nerves, unsure if you really can but not wanting to disappoint them anymore then you have, you nod. "okay."
pressing you further against his chest, geto takes your legs and wraps them around his own, leaving your legs wide and spread and unable to close on your own. he takes a clothed breast in his hand, pinching your nipple between the lace as you let out a cry in response, and then, gojo presses the vibe against your clit, fingers spreading your lips and turns it on.
you jump at the vibrations, your pussy extra sensitive given how it's been ignored for so long. they've never used a vibrator on you before either, only ever pleasuring you themselves. the vibe is a whole new sensation and you shiver as the pleasure builds, geto's fingers working your nipples, twisting and pulling.
"ahh!" you cry out, biting your lip to muffle your cries.
geto slaps your breast a second later. "don't," he orders and you tilt your head back to meet his gaze. "we wanna hear your crys. be loud."
"scream our names," gojo calls out in response, grinning lecherously as you.
swallowing thickly, you let your lips part, and just as you do, gojo increases the strength of the vibrator, it shooting into your core instantly.
your back arches, a cry pulling for your lips. "ah! oh... oh! suguru! satoru!"
"does it feel good, baby?" geto asks, pressing his hand against your stomach to force you back down, limiting your movement as the other hand shifts to your neglected breast, squeezing it in his large hand. "tell us how it feels!"
gojo leans forward, pressing his lips against your inner thing and bites down.
"ah!" you scream, feeling the coil tighten as you squirm. "it feels... feels good! too good! i can't... it's too much!"
"it's not enough," gojo corrects, and as if in punishment of your words, he increases the vibrator once more, on it's final setting. "that's enough."
"you're so wet," geot whispers into your ear. "i can see your juices spilling all over satoru's hands from here."
"she's soaking," gojo smirks.
your hands find purchase on geto's thighs, nails digging as your head falls back against his shoulder. gojo presses a line of kisses against your thighs, all while never giving you rebrief from the vibes against your clit.
"ahh! mm, please! please! please, suguru... ah—satoru!"
"please what angel?" gojo teases, "use your words."
"i—! i'm going to cum!"
"don't," geto hisses, pinching your nipple harder then he had before. "don't until i tell you i can!"
his words fill you with frustration, trying to squirm closer to the vibe but his hand against your stomach keeps you stilled, much stronger than you. you hear gojo chuckle at your useless squirming, biting down on your thigh particularly hard in a way you know will leave a mark.
"please!" you cry, eyes filling with tears as the sensation grows too strong and the need to cum grows desperation. "please let me cum!"
"no," geto relents, shaking his head. "hold it!"
"i can't!" you scream.
"you will," geto growls. "or we'll go back to ignoring you."
your body stills, forcing yourself to hold back the orgasm that is at the brink of spreading through your entire body.
"suguru," geto laughs, "so cruel."
"she needs to learn."
gojo just continues to laugh, pressing the vibe harder against your clit.
"oh—oh my god! i can't! please, please, please!" your cries turn incoherent, a slur of words leaving your lips in desperation.
"please, what?" geto prompts.
mind a fog, you shake your head.
frustrated, geto pulls your left breast out of the cup of your bra, taking your nipple bare and twisting until you're screaming in response to the extra, painful sensation.
"better answer him, angel," gojo croons, "suguru doesn't like to be ignored. and i want to hear you say it too."
mind reeling for the answer they're searching for, you spit out the first thing that comes to mind. "please, daddies!"
there's a pause before geto laughs, cruelly; "not what i was expecting, but it works."
gojo shrugs up at him; "kind of hot, huh?"
"yeah," geto breathes, pressing a kiss to your neck. "definitely."
frustrated and desperate, feeling ignored all over again, you let out a growl; "let me cum!"
at that, you receive a harsh slap against your breast and then, gojo pulls the vibe away without a word. you sink at the loss of the vibration against your clit, your orgasm ripped from you as the slap against your breast stings as you whine out in indignation.
"none of that attitude," gojo frowns up at you. "we don't like that tone."
"we'll stop right now," geto warns. "i won't let you cum at all if you try to throw that again."
panic seizing you, you're quick to shake your head. the realization that you'd disappointed them again makes your heart ache and you're quick to try and rectify. "i'm sorry! i'm sorry! daddies, i'm sorry! i won't... won't do it again." you plead, voice pitching your eyes well with tears. "i promise."
geto waits a moment, leaving you in suspension and fear. "and you won't cum until a say, right?"
you nod.
another slap to your breast.
"words."
you're quick to oblidge. "i won't cum until you say, daddy."
"wah," gojo whines, still holding the vibe tauntingly in front of you as your eyes fall on him. he's pouting. "don't forget about me."
"i'm sorry, daddy," you plead at him. "i promise i'll be good."
gojo grins and geto nods at him and then gojo is pressing the vibe against you once again.
you start from the beginning after having your orgasm ripped from you cruelly. the vibrations start slow again, gojo slowly working you up as you twitch in geto's grasp, until it's at it's strongest and the coil is close to snapping.
"please! please, suguru, i've been good," you gasp, body on fire. "can... can i—ah! can i please cum?"
"what do you think, satoru? can she cum?"
you watch as gojo shrugs, a whine leaving your lips. "i dunno. does she deserve it?"
"yes!" you cry, body spasming. you're about to pass out if they don't let you soon. you can't... can't hold it back anymore. "yes! i'll be good! i'll be good, i promise. i'll do anything!"
hearing the words they'd be aiming for, geto turns to gojo who nods up at him.
then, your prayer is answered.
"you can cum."
his words are like a miracle. hearing them, and you let everything go. the coil snaps as the pleasure burns through your entire body, spasming violently in geto's grip as gojo's nails dig into your thigh, holding the vibe in place. your eyes roll to the back of your head, choked gasps and moans pouring from your lips.
"ahh! it feels so good! so good!" you cry, the sweat on your forehead causing your hair to stick to it, blinding you through a mess of yourself as you ride out your orgasm. "thank you! thank you! thank you for letting me cum! feels so good! ahh! mm!"
"that's our good girl," gojo coos, pulling the vibe away to stare at your puffy, red and wet pussy. "such a good girl. listened to us perfectly."
geto presses kisses along the crook of your neck, hot and warm that has you tingling in response as your high slowly fades and your exhausted body falls against geto with exhaustion.
geto's hands leave your breasts as he brushes your hair away from your face. "yes," he agrees, voice softer her than it had been before. "that's a good girl."
you shiver at their praise.
"thank you," you whisper, "thank you, daddies."
"that's a cute nickname for us, baby," gojo laughs. "you like us being your daddies?"
you nod, shivering as geto moves your thighs off of him so you can close them, incredibly sensitive.
"yes," you moan, not fully aware of what you're agreeing to, mind blank.
"look at that, suguru, she's all fucked out."
"looks so fucking hot," geto hums, shifting so he can get a better look at you. "looks like our plan worked too."
gojo nods. "i was hesitant... but it seems you were right. she just needed to learn what happens if she doesn't do as we ask."
"poor girls mind is more fragile then she thinks, huh?"
geto's hand falls on your chin, guiding you to look at him as your head lulls in his grasp, not comprehending a word they're saying.
"she's our pretty dumb girl," gojo laughs. "all ours."
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theship-thewalrus · 1 year
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Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen wife. Where she's ignores him because she pregnant and thinks he dosnt want kids?
Hi Anon!! I enjoyed writing this and hope it is what you have been looking for :)
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aemond targaryen x targaryen! wife! reader
pretty much the ask
word count: 852 words reading time: about 4 minutes warnings: none
Pregnancy was not something that can be hidden forever, eventually, the bump would become too noticeable. People will begin to whisper, and eyes will be drawn to your midsection. But you couldn't tell Aemond, but you knew it must be soon. Each passing moment is a moment someone else may tell him. The Maester may attempt to graduate him, a maid who overheard it may begin to spread the gossip. But you needed time, just a little more.
Spending time in the library was not something you did all that often, preferring the fresh air you could gain from the garden. Yet, when you needed comfort, a warm and homey place to hide away. Protecting you from the pressures of the outside world, even just for a moment. You had been ignoring your husband as of late, hiding away from him in the hopes he would not find you. It was not that you disliked the man, quite the opposite, as he was handsome and kind, caring for you in his own way.
But the prospect of a child was not something the pair of you have ever discussed Of course, it was a part of your duty to produce a child to carry on his family line. Yet, he never pushed you for a child, never doing anything you did not want to. Something you would always be thankful for that, knowing someone else may have not been as understanding.
Approaching footsteps were heard from behind you, assuming it was a maid you did not react. Continuing to read the book you had on your lap, not even bothering to look up. "Is this where you have been hiding?" Aemond voice shocked you, thought you should have guessed your husband would not take kindly to your hiding away. He would find you eventually and demand an answer.
"I have not been hiding my dear husband." You say softly closing your book and resting it against your stomach, as though it was going to do anything to hide it. Aemond's eye scans over you, taking in your appearance. As though he was trying to read you at the moment, to figure out what was the matter before you tell him. There were thousands of possibilities of why you were hiding from him.
Perhaps you had grown tired of him, no longer wanting to see his hideous scars. Perhaps you have a lover, someone on the guard that can give you everything he can not. Such insecurities always plagued his mind, something he could not shake as he heard the whispers in the hall.
"Do not lie to me." His words were cold but not harsh, they were never harsh with you. Despite it all, you were his wife and it was his duty to protect and care for you. Looking up at him with wide eyes you knew you must come clean. You could see the worry in his eyes and the questions on the tip of his tongue.
"I fear if I tell you why I am here, you may wish I stayed hiding away." Your voice held fear, Aemond was quick to pick up on it. Taking your hand in his, he gave it a gentle squeeze trying to reassure you in some capacity. He hated to hear the fear in your voice, fear of his reaction to what you are hiding from him. He thought he made it clear you could tell him anything, no matter what it was.
"Tell me what worries you, my love." Sitting down beside you, he takes you in his arms. Shielding you from the world and anything that is upsetting you. Smelting into his embrace you allow his warm arms to ground you, giving you time to wrap your brain around your thoughts. Silence enveloped both of you for a moment, allowing the crackle of the fire to provide background noise.
"...I-I... I am with child," you say softly, shifting slightly to look up at him, wanting to see his reaction before he opens his mouth and simply tells you. Maybe he would tell you a lie, but his eye always gave him away. It was a window into what he truly thought about things.
For a moment his face showed nothing, he said nothing. Simply digesting the information you had just told him. But a small smile stretches over his face. It was wonderful news. He had always wanted a family with you, to see you swell with his babe. He could not fathom why you would be fearful to tell him. "This is glorious news. Why would you not tell me?" He asks softly, not holding any anger or frustration directed at you.
"Because... I thought you would not want a child." Aemond scoffs at your words, shaking his head. "Of course, I want a child with you. This is wonderful news." A smile forms on your face, one that mirrors his own. For a moment, you felt silly for thinking that he would not want this child. Of course, he would have wanted a child, your fear was simply misplaced.
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